


A Potter, Watson and a weird stone

by AnissaPotter



Series: A Potter and a Watson [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 2015 - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Comedy, Crossover, Funny, Gen, Hope you're ready, My First AO3 Post, Teenagers, also looking for a beta, be nice, but like, but pretend it is, please comment, this ain't my first rodeo, this is gonna be long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26479363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnissaPotter/pseuds/AnissaPotter
Summary: Let me explain quickly, my dad is John Watson, my almost step dad (whatever John Watson is telling you is RUBBISH) is Sherlock Holmes, my almost uncle is Mycroft Holmes. It seemed already hard, but now a weird man came in to announce that I had magic powers, I was supposed to go to a school in Scotland without any phone service ?? Also I met guy who's last name is "big pee pee" which is kind of weird. And there is this Potter guy with vintage glasses and a super cool scar, he seems nice.Sherlock told me to watch out for Dumbledore, a thin Santa Claus offering candies to kids. He does seem suspicious, too nice to be actually nice. The only sane person I met is Hermione Granger, I mean, she is mortally afraid of failure but who isn't?My name is Elizabeth Watson by the way!
Series: A Potter and a Watson [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925002
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	1. What now

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Une fangirl, un Potter et une pierre chelou](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/684385) by Anissa Potter (me). 



> Hello !! This is the first time I post here, would love advice and/or comments. Also, this is a translation of my own fanfic which I posted on ff.net. Originally, this is in French. You guessed it : English isn't my native language even though I've been studying in it for three years now. I feel confident enough to believe that this is not gonna be completely bad, but I am not confident enough to believe this is good. This is why I am very much looking for a beta. If you're willing/curious about helping me, please tell me so!   
> This fic is almost done (book 7 is finishing up) in French. You can take a look and spoil yourself (I do it often, I won't judge) but I will probably change some stuff up.

Okay first thing first, let me introduce myself. I am Elizabeth Watson, which is not the most original name, I agree. I am the daughter of Emna Daba and John Watson. You must know my father. He is the blond guy always following that Sherlock Holmes, the tall brown haired man sometimes in the papers. If neither of these names ring a bell to you, you need to go outside and visit my father’s blog. 

Whatever, my dad and Sherlock investigate together. Sherlock is a “consulting detective”, it basically means that he sometimes investigates for people coming to him, sometimes for Scotland Yard. I love it when they investigate for Scotland Yard, every second I spend with Lestrade is a second well spent. 

Also, there is Sherlock’s big brother, Mycroft. Mycroft is a even taller guy, always with his umbrella and a black (nice) car. He is a bit of a show off (to say the least), but he has pretty good reasons. The man is the freaking government. It means that, from time to time, he will come out of the bleu to tell Dad and Sherly to drop the case they’re working on.

They usually don’t do it.

I live with my father. There isn’t any divorce, there isn’t any awful big fights with my mom. She raised me till I was 9 years old. She died two years ago, car crash. There isn’t any fancy story. The social worker just brought me to my dad who discovered simultaneously my existence, my mother’s death and how to be a dad.  
It wasn’t always pretty but we’re getting there, we’re starting to have a routine, Sherlock, him and I.

We’re in August, which means that I need to go school supplies shopping. And I am very excited. Still, I have to wait for Dad and Sherlock to get home. They’re busy shopping. Shopping meaning “buying chemical materials legal-ish”, and “they” meaning “my dad dragging a very whiny Sherlock”. 

There’s a knock at the door. Mrs Hudson, our housekeeper, is having tea with friends at the other side of town. She invited me, which was tempting (being endlessly complimented by old women? Sign me up!), but I hope that by guilt-tripping my dad for leaving me alone (again) he will buy me a kitty. He already bought me a phone. We’re almost there.

Anyways, my curiosity gets the best of me, as it usually does, and I go downstairs and open the door.   
I am facing a very tall man – like twice my heights - sallow skin, a large, hooked nose. He has long greasy black hair, to his shoulders. I sight. This is not my dad, nor the promise to go shopping any time soon. 

“Sherlock Holmes will be back soon. The coffee shop next door is pretty nice. See you soon”, I explain while closing the door. 

The man put in foot in to block the door and looks at me annoyingly. I look at him. I am not afraid by an arrogant tall man, I live with one and Mycroft has only looked at me annoyingly. 

“Miss Watson ?” he asks, seriously. 

“Yup.”

I could easily lie. I don’t look like my dad, beside the eyes (according to Mrs Hudson). I have my mom’s black, thick, curly hair, her brown skin. Also, like any good Moroccan, I am pretty hairy/pretty, hairy. Works both ways. 

“Where is your father ?” 

I raise an eyebrow (Sherlock taught me that one afternoon when he was bored to death). It is the first time someone is looking for me OR my dad, not Sherlock Holmes. Except maybe the time Sherlock and I made a mess in a store (it involved candies and soaps, but anyways). 

“With Sherlock Holmes. They’ll be back any second now. Wanna come in?” I invite while opening the door a little bit more. 

I know, I know. We can’t really invite strangers in. But he seems like a nice guy, a nice who could use some shampoo.   
The guy is looking at me, knowing full well I shouldn’t let him in and he shouldn’t agree. Yet, he comes in and follows me upstairs. I manage to make him a somewhat acceptable cup of tea. He is still looking at me.

“You still haven’t introduced yourself”, I remark. “What’s your name?” 

He seems reluctant at first, weighing is whether or not I am worthy of such knowledge. After a few seconds, he answers, “Severus Snape”

I raise my eyebrow again, not able to contain my “Severus ? Original I guess.”

He seems angry. I pretend not to see it, as I usually does whenever this situation happens (and, man, it happens too much to my liking). 

My father arrives a second later, followed by Sherlock who is still complaining about something “very important, John, I need it for an experience”. 

“Sherlock, Dad, here is Severus Snape” ,I present with a proud smile but a eloquent look.

Don’t be weird and stuff. 

“Professor Snape”, corrects Long-Greasy-Hair behind me.

My dad is already frowning his eyebrows. Sherlock doesn’t even see him, going straight to his room with a bag full of stuff. 

“Professor ? Did Elizabeth do something at school ?” asks my dad.

School ended almost two months ago. And I don’t know this man, I don’t know why he is so familiar with me.

“Sit down, Sir”, invites our guest. 

Nothing weird here.   
Curious but troubled, my dad sits down. Always with his arrogant look, Snepallus shows me the closest chair, inviting me to sit down too. 

“Have you ever noticed something weird with your daughter?” asks Snape, like he was reciting a text by heart. 

“If only I did not”, smiles my dad.

Sniquellus doesn’t seem amused. Yet, he smiles. A crisped smile but a smile anyway.   
“Was your daughter’s mother special in… any way?” continues Snape. 

“What do you mean ?”

“I don’t know, some weird things you have noticed.”

Dad looks down at me, allowing me to answer. Not that I need (or wait for) the permission, but I don’t think he can answer that.  
“Yeah, I guess. Sometimes, I would go to my bedroom to get something, and coming back to the living room, everything was cleaned up. In a second, just like…”

“Magic”, interrupts Snape.

I was gonna say “just like that”, but keep showing off I guess. 

“What about you ?”

“When kids at school bother me, I am always able to make them leave.”

Sometimes they even throw up. I just thought Sherlock was influencing me to be honest with you. Snefresus is cold but firm as he announces “You’re a witch, Miss.”   
His voice is very much decided, this man doesn’t want to discuss if that’s true (or not). 

“I beg your pardon?” says Sherlock, coming out of his bedroom, ready to discuss. 

Snape seems very annoyed and bored as he takes out a piece of wood from his pocket. Whispering something and moving the wood along, the chair I am sitting on is slowly but surely levitating.  
BOOM  
Seems like Dad passed out


	2. Chapter 1 or The big trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip! The train! How amazing! How beautiful! Meeting some characters (we're gonna meet a lot of "new" faces in this chapter and the next one).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still looking for a beta, do not hesitate if you'd like to do so. Meanwhile, please correct any of my mistakes if you see them (and there are I am sure). Also, writing in a different language can be difficult for two reasons (at least, according to me), first, the more "grammatical" aspect of things: grammar errors, spelling, and stuff. Second thing is the cultural aspect. Can the jokes be translated on a cultural aspect? Is my humor too French? Do I have humor? I don't even know

My dad had to lay down for a few minutes. Sherlock went in 404 error for a few hours. Snape gave the letter, looking pretty annoyed and quite judgmental (not as much as Anderson, but he was getting there). An hour after Snape left, Mycroft arrived. He knew. This idiot knew. He knew about magic. I am going to kill him. And while he was explaining to us that the Prime Minister knew as well, Mycroft was looking at Sherlock, as if he was curious about his reaction.   
Even now, Mycroft is not surprised, which bothers me a lot. I managed to impress Sherlock sometimes (my Dad is very easy to please, I usually just look at him with big loving eyes and whispers ‘thank you” and he almost cries). But Mycroft? His arrogant and cold expression never ever leaves his face and I am starting to get impatient.

Mycroft explained to us how to go to the “Diagon Alley”, without Sherlock who insists that he has some researches to do. I think that the idea of magic is putting his world upside down. I must say that I am very excited, very curious and so impatient to discover every-thing. Dad told me to leave Sherlock alone a little.   
We also avoided telling Mrs Hudson, honestly, we’re not sure her heart can take it. Even though her (ex) husband was quite the criminal, maybe a good old witch will be too much.

I received a striped owl we called “Frodo” (even though I hesitated with “Kurt”). I begged and begged for a cat but John Watson decided that it will be too many responsibilities at once. Like I wouldn't be the best mother my future kitty will ever have. But whatever.  
I also got a freaking magic wand! Made with pine tree and Dragon heartstring. Dragon! Like an actual dragon! The magic wand seller looked like someone put a firecracker in his hair. He told me I had the same hair as my mum, but my overall attitude looked radically different. I asked him when I gave him the impression that I wanted his opinion about my resemblance to my mom.

I am usually nicer than that but I don’t like talking about my mom.

I bought the mandatory books but many more (with my own money). I gave one about potions to Sherlock, he is very fascinated by the ingredients used by witches and wizards. I also got one about the « Nobles and powerful families” and one about the overall history of witches and wizards. 

Under the impressed eye of my father, and Sherlock’s very sceptical one, I was able to do some spells and it was quite fun. When I accidentally changed my dad’s hair in blue, Sherlock liked it very much. 

Now, we’re at King’s Cross. My Dad and I. Again, we agreed that watching Sherlock and making sure he wasn’t doing anything illegal would be too much work. My goodbyes with the Holmes weren’t warm, to say the least. Mycroft said something like “Watch out for the Headmaster, he is not as nice as he seems”, Sherlock grumbled “I am still very skeptical about all of … this.” Mrs Hudson was very sweet, she gave me a box full of her favourite teas, a big hug and she whispered to my ear “I am going to miss you very much”. Lestrade even managed to come by and told me “have fun up there !”. 

Snape gave us some advice about how to go to the platform 9 ¾ but it was kind of an adventure. I had to beg Dad to run into that stupid wall and I finally decided to do it myself.

“LETS GO BABYYY”

I almost ran into a boy dressed with some sort of robes. Hearing my scream, he looked at me, his blond hair pushed back and his expression disgusted. 

“Watch out ! », he yells, stepping back, “Muggle born”. 

He said that word like that it was the biggest insult that he knew. His game is pretty weak.  
I pretend not to see my Dad who just arrived on the platform and squint my eyes, looking at the boy carefully. His hair is so blond, almost white, the kind of color middle-aged women try to obtain vainly. Honestly, I kind of pity him and decide to put on my sweet, sugary, smile. The Mycroft-Is-Giving-You-An-Order kind of smile. 

“I don’t want to embarrass you”, I smile softly, “but your laces are undone. Also, you still have your mum’s lipstick on your cheek. She must be all worried for you. You don’t want to worry mommy, do you?”. 

He becomes so red, he almost matches the lipstick stain. I go back to my father, who looks upset. He learned not to ask about my discussion with other kids, he usually isn't very pleased by my answers. 

“So”, he starts. 

“So”, I repeat. 

We look at each other. Awkwardly, he hugs me. I hide my smile when I feel how he tightened the hug. I think he is reassured that I am going to a boarding school, Scottish no less. I am excited, so excited, but also nervous. I like having my routine, having the City, the Holmes. 

“We’ll miss you”, he whispers in my ear.

“Don’t kill Sherlock”, I answer. 

He smiles at me and kisses my forehead. 

“One letter a week, at least. I didn’t buy Frodo for nothing”. 

“We bought Frodo for the look, Dad. He looks so good”. 

“We didn’t buy Frodo. I did”, he corrects me, his smile growing. 

I drag my travel case, the thing is full of “muggle” things, things I couldn’t let go. Like my phone, some books, some movie, and my computer. Snape specified that none of these things would work. I believe him, but I also believe that I can outsmart them.   
Frodo is making lots of noise, not happy in his cage. In my backpack, I have the box with Mrs Hudson’s teas, some of her scones, my magic wand, some chocolate, “A history of magic”, and “The Hobbit”.  
My Dad and I first bounded thanks to The Hobbit. He used to read it to me when I first arrived to Baker Street, and still now, it’s my comfort book. 

I go to the car the closest to the Professor’s car. I know that most students will never go that close to the Professors. Only logical.   
I sit comfortably in the old seat, open my book, and start eating my chocolate with the peaceful perspective that I will be left alone. I scratch Frodo’s head while reading.   
Soon after the start of the train, a girl with thicker hair than mine (I didn’t know it was possible), brown hair, a bright look, and a big but awkward smile walks in.

“Hi. Can I stay here?”

“For sure.”, I say looking at her behind my book. “Take a seat”.

She smiles at me and drops her bag on the seat, the bag making a big noise. I suppose that the thing is full of books. She opens « The history of Hogwart ». 

"Muggleborn ? "I ask, repeating Blondie’s words.

“Is it that obvious?" she sighs. 

“Most wizards and witches would know about Hogwart, and from their parents. If you were an orphan, you wouldn’t have all these new books, this new robe. So I suppose your parents love you very much, they just… don’t know.”

That’s it, I can feel my powers strengthen. I am becoming Sherlock. I just found my Mrs Hudson. I need a Lestrade, and eventually my John Watson. 

"What about you? "

"Halfblood I have been told”.

“You have been told? You’re not sure?"

"No. I am not. "

I don’t look up. I am definitive and firm. I do not want any more questions, I do not want to talk about it. She seems to understand and stops talking. Lovely. I wish I could say it was like this all the way long. But a boy came in, blond hair, shy expression, and mumbling as he walked in.

“Hi. Can I stay with you?”

“Sure !”

Well, I was going to say no but it seems like this is not my property anymore.

“Neville Longbottom."

"Prove it."

Both of them look at me, not understanding my dare. I cross my arms.

"Long bottom, eh? Prove it.”

They both blush. A lot. Neville is matching the seat. There it is. My Molly Hooper. 

“I… I…”

"I am joking. Calm down. I am Elizabeth Watson.” I say, shaking his hand.

“Hermione Granger”, smiles the girl. 

We go back to our reading. Granger goes put her robes on after twenty minutes. After an hour, Big Pee Pee starts to sweat and look around, panicking. 

“Merlin” he whispers. 

“My name is Elizabeth” I answer, without looking up.

“What is going on, Neville?” asks Hermione.

She is too serious. Thankfully she got me, I will be her funny sidekick. 

“I lost my toad.”

He lost his what… Wizards are so weird.

“I hope it’s a prince” I smile, hoping this one will get them to chuckle.

Not even a side-eye! Tough audience.

"We will help you find it!” says Hermione, getting up. 

I am no Mother Theresa. 

“Let’s plit”, proposes Hermione and I now decide I am actually Mother Theresa. I put my book down and nod. 

“Very good idea. I am going left.”

Did I choose the Professors area deliberately? Maybe. I know they won’t follow me there and as soon as I see them leaving our seats, I go back there and finish up my reading. I then change into my robes. 

Once they’re back, I am ready to visit this future school of ours. I am also ready to be social, and I welcome them with open arms.

“Did you find…it… him?”

“No” sighs Neville. "His name is Trevor."

I hesitate a little but go through my backpack and hand to both of them a piece of my chocolate. They smile at me. I grumble.  
I am just like Sherlock. Or my Dad in the morning.  
Hermione talks about meeting a boy named Harry Potter (Neville seems pretty impressed, I am not) and another boy named Weasley. I read about Harry Potter and I honestly feel for the guy. Could you imagine being known for killing someone when you were a baby? And the said someone killed both your parents beforehand? I am not sure about that. 

As we arrived, I am feeling kind of stressed. The anxiety growing in my throat. I close my fists and breathe in and out for a few minutes as my Dad taught me. I don’t like to show how impressed I am, but even I cannot hide my surprise and impression when we see the castle. A huge guy with an impressive beard takes us to small boats. I am looking everywhere, turning my head trying not to miss a thing.  
It is amazing.

I go in a boat with Longbottom, a guy with vintage glasses and a red-haired boy.

“Elizabeth Watson." I introduced, shaking their hands.

“Ron Weasley. "  
The guy with the glasses also has impressive green eyes. A super cool scar.

"Harry Potter."

I pretend not to know who he is and smile at him.

“Pleased to meet both of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmk is my writing is awful, if my jokes are no jokes, if my overall chapter is garbage! As for Elizabeth, she is pretty "Sherlock wannabe" but she is a 11 years old who lived with a detective, followed his and her dad's investigation. I believe that's her annoying personality is also part of being 11 years old? idk   
> Bref, laissez moi un commentaire! (you guys should practice your French as well, don't you think?)


	3. Chapter 2 or The Weird Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that hats could sing? Did you know that one of them was presently at Hogwart and give each of us a "House"? Did you know that these Houses are the basis for your personality according to this woman with his impressive bun?  
> To summarize, Hogwarts give their first year a personality test and that's how the rest of our social group will be based on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello dear and dearest!  
> I don't know if I had a word on the subject yet but I just want to clarify that not only I disagree with everything JK Trashling has said concerning transwomen (and basically everything that came out of her mouth after the last Harry Potter book), but I will not allow any discriminatory, insulting and degrading comment on any subject. If you want to discuss the subject more, you can always send me a message and I can always decide to answer.  
> My ship, my rules, I am the captain ;)

We enter into a huge hall, an old one. The castle is very old, old stones, old staircases. You get it. I almost broke my neck trying to look everywhere at the same time. I notice Blondie in a corner, he looks at everyone with arrogance. He is with two other boys, taller and bigger than him who don’t seem to think about much. Or think for that matter. An old lady with a tight bun awaits us. She is wearing dark green robes and she looks strict, dignified and like a badass. She makes some sort of speech about the castle and the “houses”. If I understood everything well : Slytherin are the Holmes, Gryffindor are my Dad and Lestrade, Hufflepuff are my mom and Mrs Hudson and Ravenclaw I would say Molly Hooper (the woman cannot stop talking once you ask her about her job and dead people).

“Any questions ?” asks the woman, very much hoping for none.

I raise my hand.

“Yes… Miss ?”

“Watson, Professor. Is there no wifi… at all?”

Some muggle borns students (Hermione included) seem pretty shocked that I would ask about such futile thing. Well, I gotta read my father’s blog to see that everyone I care about is alive. Also I gotta catch on some TV Shows.

“I beg your pardon ?"

She understood. She is giving me a chance to change my question.

“Nothing” I sight, putting my hands back in my pockets.

“Any other questions?”

Remembering something, I raise my hand again. Everyone hates me, I can feel it. I pretend not to care.

“Yes, Miss Watson?" she answers, very annoyed.

"This castle is like… Pretty old. And magic. How can you be sure that it is 100% safe?”

Some students look at McGonagall, interested in her answer. She looks at me for a few seconds then answers, a little bit annoyed, a little bit amused (at least I hope so):

“It is safe.”

Still, how can she be sure?

We’re asked to follow her. While doing so, I listen Ronald Weasley making his very own speech about Hogwart and its houses.

“See Harry, everyone who went to Slytherin became allied of You-Know-Who.”

I frown.

"No I don’t. Who ?"

Harry and Ron look at me.

“Sorry ? " 

"Who is "You know who”?”

Ron seems embarrassed, looking around and then grumbling. "

We can't say his name" explains Ron

“Why not?" I answer, raising an eyebrow. “Who is it?”

“I can't say it!" says Ron.

We walk through huge doors and I can see four tables full of students wearing ties with different colors (according to each house I believe). At the table with the students were red and gold tie, I see four red-haired boys. I smile and whispers to Ron. "

All of your family is at Gryffindor and you’re afraid of a name?” I ask, insisting on the last word with disdain.

Basic psychology. And he seems to fall for it, looking more worried.

“His name brings a curse!”

“Then spell it !" I say, losing my patience.

“I don’t know how…"

His ears flush. I didn’t know ears did that. I turn to Potter and ask him.

“Do you know ?"

"Yes but.."

"Tell me."

"Voldemort ", he answers, his voice trembling a little.

What kind of name is that? Voldemort? Either a Scooby-Doo or a Hercules Poirot villain if you ask me. Anyways, I am going to ask Sherlock to look it up a little. I also remark that this Potter is very nice, maybe too nice. Might have to toughen him up a little.

"Weasley, you should be careful with your words” I end up saying.

Ronald is not scared anymore and frowns his eyebrows.

“Why is that?”

“Gryffindor are supposed to be tolerant or whatever, and here you are saying that every student wearing a green tie will follow Voldemort? If you really want to join your brothers, maybe act a little less judgmental.”

“But they are!” he argues.

I don’t answer, rolling my eyes and turning to the Professors table. McGonagall came back with a pointy hat who sings. Let me repeat A pointy hat Who sings. And everyone acts like it is NORMAL. IT IS NOT NORMAL. People are weird here. I am not sure I am comfortable with a THING being able to see my thoughts and my future (kinda) speak out loud and giving me some sort of order (“go to this house!”). Simple security question.

One by one, each student is given a House and the older students welcome them with a knowing smile and a wink sometimes. Blondie ends up in Slytherin. Longbottom and Granger in Gryffindor.

“Harry Potter!” calls the woman who refused to me the precious wifi.

The room goes super silent. Gandalf discount now seems pretty interested. The singing hat is taking his freaking time.

“I am starving” I complain, a little bit too loud.

Everyone looks at me. I smile, a bit embarrassed. At the Professor's table, I recognized Snape to whom I wave my hand. He doesn’t even smile. Doesn’t even acknowledge my existence. Gandalf discount, on the other hand, looks at me and Snipellus with amusement.

“Gryffindor!” yells the hat as the table applauds loudly.

“How surprising.”

I go before Ronald Weasley, and I smile at him. Once I sit down, the hat is putting on my head, strongly, I cannot even see in front of me.

_Well well well…. A slytherin…._

I think about Blondie and grin. Ugh. No. I want to stay with Granger and Longbottom. They both seem shy and vulnerable. They need help. And Weasley could use a kick in his ass sometimes. And Potter might be used by people with bad intentions.

_Yet Slytherin seems to be the right one…_

Seriously? Rather than do some stupid song, you should put us in houses quickly, don’t you think? Maybe a graphic could be useful? You could look at the houses the most common according to gender and blood status.

_Ravenclaw then?_

Because I mention a graphic? This is getting stupid.

_Why Gryffindor?_

Now that’s a question! Gryffindor seems pretty arrogant, so am I. But I like to remind most of them do not have good reasons to be so. Also, the only friends I made are there, to be honest with you.

_Hufflepuff maybe?_

No! I screamed. I heard it.

Not that I mind the characteristics of the Hufflepuff but I would not be able to face Sherlock once I admit that the House’s animal is a badger. I want Gryffindor. I’ll show Gandalf that I am also worth interest.

_Are you sure?_

I am.

_It settles it then!_

GRYFFINDOR

I cannot hide my relieved smile and go to the table. I am sitting right next to Longbottom and red-haired twins. I smile at the twins and introduce myself.

'Elizabeth Watson."

" We heard "says one.

"Fred Weasley."

"George Weasley" says the other, shaking my hand.

Gandalf now announces we are gonna sing the “song of Hogwart”, with the rhythm that we want. I choose Let It Go, pretty certain it’s a safe choice.

_**Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald, Or young with scabby knees, Our heads could do with filling, With some interesting stuff, For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, Just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot** _

Obviously, I do not know the lyrics very well, and I sing even worse, but I am having fun and I feel drunk on joy. I feel happy. It’s crazy. Gandalf then finishes his speech with some weird .. sentences?

“Is he crazy?" asks Harry to one of the Weasley, Percy I recall.

Thinking about the Holmes, I answer first.

“All the geniuses are."

Percy nods, approving my answer.

“Tell me George, which class gives Professor Snape?” I ask while looking at the teacher.

“Potions. Don’t even try with him, he hates all the Gryffindors. I am Fred by the way.”

Pretty sure I asked George. Still, I don’t mention it. “I see… interesting.”

I eat while listening to as many conversations as possible, sometimes adding something. But mostly, I enjoy not being known, not being known for having a father mostly working (either at the hospital or with Sherlock) and a dead mother. Maybe, for a while, I can pretend that everything is normal.

We even met ghosts, actual ghosts, who used to be actual people. Should be pretty nice to discuss with them. They must know so much stuff.

Once I am settled in my bed, after a long and exhausting day, I just want to tell everything to my dad. I should content myself with an old fashioned letter.

_“Dad, Sherlock, Mycroft and any individual reading this,_

_Hogwart is amazing! It’s an actual castle, architecturally from the second half of the Middle Ages but it is much older than that. Wizards must have lots of other things to hide, I am very excited to try to find all of them. Historically, everything is pretty weird. They write on parchment, use birds, and their use of bathrooms it too recent to be mentioned decently._

_I learned so many things. For example, a few years ago, some sort of Dark Lord appeared with allied (most of them coming from a particular House of Hogwart). The guy quickly gained a lot of influence and power but got beaten. By a guy here, Harry Potter, my age. The guy got beaten by a one-year-old. The guy was Voldemort. Not sure he was a guy. Could be a they. I don’t know. Could be a she._

_I got so many questions. Why Harry Potter? Why so young? Is he actually dead? Could a baby kill him? Harry’s parents died that night. Maybe they were the ones who killed him, with some sort of spell? I don’t know._

_Maybe, Sherlock, you could look into it?_

_Mycroft, Dumbledore/Gandalf discount seems interesting. He also seems very interested in Harry Potter._

_Dad, I made myself two friends! A girl named Hermione Granger, she loves reading too. And a boy named Neville Longbottom, he got a toad!! It’s amazing here. I met lots of other people but I don’t know if I should call them friends. Some teachers look nice, most of them actually. But none of them could equal Professor Keating in Dead Poets society._

_Downside: no wifi, no plug to charge my phone. I might cry myself to sleep every night (this is a joke, I repeat, this is a joke). Hope you get this quick._

_Your daughter (at least John’s)._

_PS: Sherlock, don’t annoy Mycroft too much._

_Mycroft, don’t start a war._

_Dad, say hi to Lestrade, Molly, and Mrs Hudson from me!_

_Love you. Sherlock, don’t roll your eyes.”_

I look at my future roommates. They are nice, very polite, they like to chat. But they also look too proud to be here. It’s just a red tie and a red scarf, I don’t know how much we should value our House.

Are they proud to be witches? To be in this House? Worst, are they proud to be in this House with Harry Potter?

Maybe this is dumb dumb house and…

“Elizabeth ?"

I look up. Lavande Brown smiles at me.

“How do you think you parents will react? Gryffindor and everything ?"

I wonder what they would say if I told them I was supposed to go to Slytherin. Instead, I just smile and take out the rest of my chocolates.

“Wanna share?” I clear my throat very dramatically and stand up. “How would my parents react? Well well well..”

Maybe this isn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour bonjour!  
> Any comment will be welcomed! I feel like I am walking in a dark pitched room with a small flashlight : I kind of know what I am doing, but not enough to make confident steps. Please, let me know what you think, light up the room for me <3  
> Thank you for the kudos, thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 3 or The Classes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth meets her teachers and starts to bond a little bit more with Neville (which is understandable, Neville is DA best).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello friends and others !  
> I hope you are well! I hope you are having a good day! I hope you have a nice cup of tea (mint tea or earl grey). I hope it's raining a little but you're cozy inside. I hope you have a good Hozier playlist. I hope everything is good!  
> I've been starting to listen to Podcasts and right now I am BINGING True Crime Garage, do you guys know something similar (long and criminal?).

I quickly caught on the system of House’s points. Quicker than you might imagine, I was a big part in the speed at which Gryffindor lost its points. The Weasley twins started to like me as soon as I started to team with them to lose points. They are the only ones. The others hate me. Fred and George told me that they will learn to laugh at my adventures, I hope they’re right because for now, I am as infamous as Harry Potter is famous. And I hate it. I still managed to make and keep some friends: Granger, Longbottom, Potter, and Finnigan. The others are still debating whether or not they like me. Ronald Weasley does not like me but he does not hate. I can deal with that. How did I manage to make Gryffindor lose 60 points you ask? Very simple.

ooOOOoo

History of magic :

“Professor Binns ?" 

"Yes, Miss… Lacson ?"

"Did someone tell you you were a ghost?”

“Ten points from Gryffindor."

ooOOOoo

Herbology:

“Professor?”

“Yes, Miss Watson?”

“Did you decide to become a herbology Professor because of your last name? Or did you change it after deciding your career? Because Professor Sprout and being a herbology teacher…”

“Detention and twenty points from Gryffindor.”

ooOOOoo

Charms

“Professor Flitwick?”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Do you know about Tyrion Lannister?”

“I beg your pardon?”

It took him some time, but once he asked a student (I suppose) I got a full week of detention and some points taken from Gryffindor.

ooOOOoo

Astronomy :

"Professor ?"

"Yes ?"

"Did you actually need to make us come at midnight to watch the stars or is it for the aesthetic? Do you realize that the Big Hall’s roof does the same thing?”

“Twenty points from Gryffindor.”

ooOOOoo

Defense against the dark arts:

“Professor Quirrell? Do you believe you look good in that turban?”

“Detention!”

He didn’t even stutter.

ooOOOoo

In detention:

“Sir?” “What?”

“Isn’t ironic to be named Filch and then… making sure that we don’t filch?”

“Detention!”

“I am in detention!”

You got the idea. I made Frodo catch every letter being sent to my Dad, I am sure that these detentions will make him anxious and he doesn’t need it. Maybe this will make Gandalf take interest in me. I didn’t do any of this in transfiguration. I do not want to risk… my life or anything else. And my reputation precedes me. Which means that she is even more strict with me. Now we’re going to the dungeons for the potion class.

After the information I got from Fred (or George) Weasley, I already started studying some potions and the properties of the ingredients. I am sitting next to Harry Potter.

“You like me now?” he notices.

“I don’t like being noticed, and you’re getting noticed from everyone. Now that everyone had the chance to get a good look at your face, I should be safe.”

“Like you are not noticed” he smiles.

I like that he got some conversation. I smile too. We’re interrupted by Snape. He comes in, slamming the door behind him. He starts a speech. He starts the speech. I mean, I get it. If I had that voice, I would make dramatic speeches all the time.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few…Who possess, the predisposition… I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention! Mister Potter. Our new celebrity.” 

"I feel for you, but I am so thankful for that speech” I mumble to Harry.

He doesn’t have to answer.

The poor boy is being straight on bullied by Snape. I frown a little. Why bother with such a good speech to then try to … fight an eleven years old? Well, still, the man got some flow. I look at Harry trying to get out that hole Snape put him in. At the other side of the room, Hermione is having her arm so straight up, I think she might be trying to reach the roof. He might be unfair and kind of a douche, Snape is still very much impressive. And I have been conditioned to admire douchy impressive man.

Once the work started, Harry and I start discussing a little.

“Do you know why he hates you so much?” I ask.

Harry shrugs. Oh Godric, just answer the question.

“Jealousy ?"

Jealousy ? The ego he has. We manage to succeed some sort of potion. Neville fails, miserably. Hermione is trying to help him but it is not enough. I also believe Snape hates my poor Longbottom more than Potter, and that’s a lot. As we walk to our next class, Frodo finds me, hooting happily. I catch the letter he is carrying and pets him gently.

“Who is that from?” asks Ronald.

“Probably my dad.”

And I am right.

“ _Elizabeth,_

_Your letter left me puzzled. You’re at school, not having some sort of vacation, and absolutely not investigating. I am pretty sure the wizards have their own Scotland Yard (actually, Mycroft assured me so). The house of Gryffindor seems very fitting. Even though I have also read about Slytherin and it seemed fitting as well. I am glad and happy that you already made some friends! Sherlock told me he wasn’t sure that many friends could be a real thing, but don’t take friendship advice from him._

_You’re missed here. I have even noticed Sherlock putting Dr Who on and mumbling to himself that time travels are impossible (and actually… are they? You should make some research). I personally miss coming back home and not being yelled at because we arrive 15 minutes late. I also miss spending time with you.”_

_He is getting me emotional and stuff._

_“Mycroft is acting strangely. I think he also misses you but he will die before admitting anything as such. I am pretty sure you can expect a birthday gift from it, even though he scared of Frodo. Lestrade told me to tell you to find the school’s kitchens. He told me it was the best way to have fun in boarding school, according to his own experience. Yet, I am asking you not to do it. Mrs Hudson is asking you to be careful. I can only agree. I am pretty sure that all impressive and amazing the castle is, it is also scary._

_Love you._

_Your dad._

_PS: Focus on your classes."_

I roll my eyes and open the second letter.

“ _Elizabeth,_

_I made some researches here and there (mostly Mycroft, who wasn’t happy about my questions and researches, which convinced me a little bit more to keep going). The muggle government was aware of Voldemort and its different doings. Then he met Harry Potter, and nothing. He also mentioned that Dumbledore put Harry Potter with his aunt and uncle, and couldn’t understand why they were not big fans of magic. I am no expert in magic (I rather prefer chemistry), but the idea that a one-year-old baby could destroy such a powerful entity is making skeptical. Stay close to Potter, tell me anything you notice._

_If any other things related to Voldemort ever happens, Potter will be implied. Mycroft told me that Dumbledore refused the position of Minister of Magic, to stay the Headmaster, which is suspicious. Kids are easily influenced, and maybe that’s the reason. Yet, I believe you should ask him directly._

_Don’t fill your head with useless stuff._

_S. Holmes_.”

I cannot stop smiling. I l feel filled with happiness.

“What does it say?"

I look around, trying to find Hermione but she is nowhere to be found. I look at Potter, still smiling.

“I gotta study, have fun, make friends, not study too much, investigate and not investigate.”

“… And what are you going to do?” asks Ronald, trying to comprehend.

“I don’t know yet!" I smile.

“We’re going to see Hagrid. Do you want to come with us?” asks Harry.

“No, but thanks”.

Again, I cannot really hide neither my smile nor my excitation. It feels good to be included. To be part of a group of people of my age. I happen to cross Percy Weasley going to the library.

“You’re the girl who’s been losing all our points?” he says, looking down at me.

“No. I am the curious girl who’s brave enough to ask her questions.”

Yes, I used “brave” deliberately. These students put that word so high in their esteem that sometimes it feels like a master key. I wonder in the library, headed to no particular alley. I just want to admire the books, the collections, at least the books allowed to the students. I don’t find anything particularly interesting. Yes, I guess that some books might be needed in my studies, but the “Muggle Collection” is the poorest among all. I guess wizards feel so interesting they just assume the muggles don’t have anything intriguing to say. Sherlock really needs to come by. I think I was kind of looking “Learn Here How To Kill People Magically: Three Easy Steps!”.

I just want something that is gonna give me some magic flow. The restricted section seems fascinating. Will probably find some magic flow there. How can I get there, still? I need the authorization of a teacher. Which teacher could give me that? Hagrid I guess but he is not a teacher. I need to find someone, need to make researches on all the magic possible out there. Sherlock asks me to do it, and I want to do it for me. I really want to know everything. We just arrived in a new universe, I just arrived in a new universe.

Once I am done with the library, I go back to my research for Hermione. I love her but she is trying too hard to become friends with Harry and Ron. Even though she’s pretty smart, she doesn’t understand what I am trying to teach her “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. She is still at the "fonder” phase of it all.

Looking for her, I find Neville, reading a letter. He is sitting on a bench in the Clock Tower courtyard, he looks very upset, his hands are trembling.

“You ok there?”

“My grandmother is very surprised that I ended up in Gryffindor” he sights.

Honestly, he reminds me sometimes of Professor Quirrell (in a better way, duh). I sit down next to him, thinking for a bit then I ask:

“And your parents ?"

He becomes very silent, very still, very tense. I also know that is more to this than I might guess. Maybe this is my turn to do the first step. And I do it.

"This is a secret. Keep it for yourself” I start.

My voice isn’t shaking, which is something I suppose. Neville looks at me. I see in his eyes the promise that I can trust him. And I trust him.

“My mum is dead. Car crash, muggles stuff. I just… I don’t want people to know, because then it’s the only thing they know about you. And I really hate being defined by that.”

“I understand."

This is not a figure of speech. I know. I feel it in my guts, that he understands. Very well, too well.

"You can tell me anything,” I say. “But I won’t force you. Never. Just know that I will keep it for myself.”

“My parents are alive”, he whispers. “But… at St Mango.”

Seeing my interrogative look, he explains.

“The hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Deatheathers, allied of You Know Who, turn them crazy. Making the cruciatus curse until they lost their minds."

I don’t look at him anymore. I just don’t want him to see the horror on my face, or the pity or anything. I want to be sure that when I look at him I will be looking at him as a friend. Also, gotta look into You Know Who.

“They don’t recognize me," he says so softly that I am mostly reading on his lips.

“Who did it, Neville?”

“Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange; and Bartemius Crouch Jnr.”

I don’t ask any more questions. What for? For how long has he known these names by heart? How much hate and desire for revenge is there in his heart, just next to his love for Trevor and plants? I rub his back, gently. I pretend to not see his tears, to hear his cries. I just stay next to him and wait patiently. 

"Going back to the start of this conversation. You shouldn’t worry or be ashamed. Parents are always proud of their kids. My mum always told me that as long as we are nice people, that’s all they want. They’re always proud. They were probably proud when you had your first shit. So… Gryffindor? They are so proud."

He smiles at me, a sad little smile. We both pretend that what I said is enough.

Finally. Hermione. I didn’t find her, she found me. How romantic.

“Oh, Elizabeth! Hi Neville, how.. . am I interrupting something ?"

"No !" yells Neville. "I am leaving anyway.”

He stands up and walks away. Even his posture his shy, and yet, behind some of his childlike attitude, I know he has been through enough.

“I looked for you everywhere”, I say to Hermione. “I didn’t understand anything in transfiguration!”

I understood everything. But I know she feels alone, not fitting in. I see her looking enviously at the group of friends in the castle. I just want the remind her that she has her place here and that I love having her around.

I am more considerate that I like to think so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please :( leave :( a :( comment :( <333


	5. Chapter 4 or The Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth's got a crush! And he is sweet and beautiful. Speaking of crush, did I mention Longbottom crushed in his wrist during Quidditch lesson? Nevermind, you will discover it soon enough!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys! I have started to knit a cardigan in august without realizing how time-consuming it can be and I finally seeing the end of it! I am so relieved! It doesn't look half as bad as I expected (very rustic tho). I wondered if you had any crime related podcasts you could gimme? I am listening to True Crime Garage, and I love the way they look at everything and the fact that the podcast is sooooo long!

I soon realized I was the only one hoping for a better friendship among the Houses. I find the idea of separating students from each other (with the only goal of increasing the competitive spirit of the quidditch players) utterly stupid. Imagine if students kept their hatred for each other in their adult life. Just imagine, some sort of government full of former Slytherin and former Gryffindor. The Cold War in better. Wizards are always so much more badass. But still, it seems idiotic and they give so many credits to the Houses, even though we've all been given one by a Magic Hat. So now I have decided to protest the housing system.

I found a way to steal a tie from each house, and according to my mood, I change my tie. I couldn’t find the scarves and didn't want to risk being noticed looking for them. Most of the Professors dislike it, a lot. Principally the Headof the Houses. After three detentions, they finally got the fact that I will keep doing it. Snape is the only one who keeps taking points from Gryffindor. But he would have found another excuse anyway. If he really gets on my nerves, I switched with a Gryffindor tie and he leaves me alone. Sometimes I do wish that I would have agreed to go to Slytherin, he would have been so much more nicer. His hatred towards any non Slytherin could probably be conclusive to Sherlock. Not to me.

My co Gryffindor also hate when I put the tie of another House on. I couldn't care less, I can be brave, and ambitious, smart and caring at the same time, and anyone who believes otherwise is not worth talking to. 

We are dangerously approaching November, we’re in mid-October and no one knows my birthday date, which is perfect. My reputation for being an annoying brat will probably stop anyone from throwing a surprise birthday party. Right now we are going to our Quidditch lesson. Hermione is so nervous, it’s the only class in which she will be behind (with the other Muggle Born and myself, of course), and I think this observation is making her sick. Neville is pretty anxious too, understandable, the boy got lots of qualities, but agility isn’t one of them. Harry also looks preoccupied, he has been biting the inside of his cheeks for ten minutes.

“Potter, if you wanna make minced meat out of it, keep going!”

He flushes and looks away. He flushes so fast. I do like to make people flush, but Harry is not giving me any challenge. Also, the Boy Who Lived isn’t so talkative, which is ok. I have been told I can sometimes talk for ten (Sherlock told me that). But I wonder what is keeping him from talking. 

Ronald mumbles sometimes so low I can’t hear it. It reminds me of Sherlock, which is not so bad. I think that, when I miss Sherlock a little bit too much, grumpy Ronald will give me what I need.

“What’s going on, Ronald ?"

I am the only one who uses his complete name. I keep using it because it annoys him. If that Percy comes to see me again, I plan to call him “Perceval”. He asked me last week what was the point of making our House loses its points. Like Fred and George hadn’t already told him.

“Malfoy is still bragging about his amazing broomstick”.

Sometimes I hate the conversation I am having. Who cares about Blondie? Ronald I guess. But, he is right. Blondie cannot shupt it about all the amazing things he has done with his amazing broomstick (notably how he has surpassed a flying muggle invention). Not very original, most first-year boys bragged about something similar. I clear my throat then ask loudly.

“My dad once told me he saw a red-haired boy on a broomstick going faster than a high-speed train! Was it you, Ronald?”

Hermione looks at us, disapproving silently. She does hate when one lies. Too bad.

Ronald needs a few minutes but he answers loudly as well.

“Absolutely! My dad yelled at me once, he told me I needed to be more prudent when I go near the Big Fast train with my broomsticks!”

Ugh, close enough.

Malfoy frowns his eyebrows, seeing all the people listening to him rushing to Weasley to hear all about the “Big Fast Train”. He approaches us with a smirk.

"Weasley, seeing the piggery you call a house, I doubt you have a broomstick that could do that!”

I swear these attacks on the Weasley's money are getting lower and dumber. And I've known both of them for only a month. 

“Malfoy seeing the way your parents need to compensate with gifts, I doubt they actually love you.”

Checkmate, he has nothing to answer and seems furious as he walks aways, fists closed.

“Thank you Watson” whispers Ronald.

“Come on Ronald, shutting up this idiot is a pleasure.”

Madam Hooch (seriously?) arrives a few minutes and explains to us the point of her class. Point I didn’t quite catch, just like the other classes. I spend the time looking around and wondering how high the broomstick can actually go and waiting for something to happen. And boy, does something happen.

Neville, on his broomstick, is starting to lose control of the object, going higher and higher. Madame Hooch yells instructions, trying to be louder than the laughs and screams of the students, but honestly, it would be a miracle if Neville can hear anything. I decide to help and scream as loud as possible as well. But nothing. Neville finally falls onto the ground in a sinister broken noise.

Madame Hooch helps him get up to take him to the infirmary. I look at them, biting nervously my lip. I am worried about him, he is like… The only actual friend I got with Granger.

“Weasley! Granger!"

They both approach.

"Watch Potter. I am afraid he is gonna do something stupid” I say, squinting my eyes in Malfoy’s direction.

Blondie got a dangerous smile on his lips. I run towards Madame Hooch.

"Professor! I am his friend!”

If he repeats that to anyone, I end him. So me, the (I like to believe so) most Slytherin of the Gryffindor, put my arms across Neville and help the most Hufflepuff of the Gryffindor. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Who knows? Neville can get quite vicious once he tries to convince me to study Herbology. We help Neville lay down on a bed. A strict voice interrupts us:

“What’s going on?”

“The young Longbottom fell off his broomstick, Poppy. A wrist sprain I believe, but I would like to be sure.”

A nurse, coming straight from the XVIIIth century comes in and looks at Neville with both compassion and amusement.

“Frank and Alice’s son ?"

"Y-Yes » struggles Neville.

"Your mom was quite clumsy, she came here on a weekly basis”, she smiles.

She looks down at me, surely waiting for the reason for my presence. I bomb my torse, cross my arms, and look at Neville.

“Just making sure everything goes smoothly with my friend.”

“Great, now that I know you’re here, Miss Watson, I am gonna go back to the other students,” says Hooch as the nurse starts to inspect Neville.

“So, can your medicines cure other stuff? Like cancer?"

Pomfresh, still focused on Neville, frowns.

“Cancer?” 

"A muggle disease."

"Alas no. Magic medicine is for magic diseases. The muggle medicine, for the muggle disease.”

Seems too easy, but I am not sure I have the skills to argue. So I don’t and observe Neville, trying to reassure him.

'Don’t worry. It’s just a sprain, I will put my to-do list on your cast, it’s gonna be wonderful…”

“My Remembrall!”

I am trying to be a nice and compassionate friend and he cuts me midsentence to yell about his Rembrall? He got that stuff from his grandma (who knows him pretty well) and was able to forget about it. To forget about his REMEMBRall.

"It fell off my pockets!”

“We will find it” I answer firmly.

Pomfresh finishes his cast, giving him some advice and rules to follow and then asks me to accompany him to the common room. I think that’s wise, Neville is intimidated (one could say scared) of the Fat Lady and often forgets the password. Thankfully the Fat Lady is forgiving, he is supposed to have slept outside four times already. The common room is warmed up by the fire, and no one is here. The only noise is the low whispers of the portraits. Neville and I sit down on the couch with a comfortable sight and look at each other.

“Do you know any famous songs?”

“Songs?" repeats Neville. "I know a bunch, why?”

“Famous songs, like … A whole new world?”

“A what?”

Oh god. I stand up, salute him, and clear my throat before lashing out my best impression of Lea Salonga.

“ _A whole new wooooooorld A dazzling place I never knew But when I'm way up here It's crystal clear That now I'm in a whole new world with you_ ”

No matter the laughs of Neville, no matter the curious looks of the portrait, I keep on singing. Unfornutaly, someone taps on my shoulder. I turnaround and face the very amused smile of Oliver Wood and the annoyed look of Perceval Weasley. Wood is the captain of the Quidditch team of Gryffindor. I’ve already heard about him as the Weasley twins complained about his tyrannical methods, without mentioning how beautiful he is. He is tall, brown-haired, and has dark brown eyes. He has such a gentle smile. I hate how silenced I am right now. I try to brave a smile and control the shaking in my voice.

“Yo. Elizabeth Watson."

Yo ??

"Oliver Wood. Captain of the Quidditch team of Gryffindor, which now counts Harry Potter.”

I look at Neville interrogatively, Neville shrugs his shoulders, not knowing about that. What did Potter do again?

“Shouldn’t you both be in class ?” asks Weasley with arrogance.

I lose my smile and give him the most irritated expression.

“Actually, no, Perceval. Madame Pomfresh asks me to accompany Neville in the common room and stays with him. See, the poor boy sprained his wrist during our class with Professor Hooch.”

Wood raises an eyebrow and observes Weasley’s reaction. Weasley’s ears flushed red and his eyebrows are almost touching.

“See, Mister Prefect, I am annoying. Not mean. And right now I am actually being very nice, so you might want to take off that broomstick taking so much room over there?” I propose, sarcastically, my eyes looking behind him, more specifically at his behind. ”Wood is the one playing quidditch.”

His ears redden a little more, I didn’t know it was possible. He is preparing to scream, but Wood intervenes.

“I like you."

I smile at him, I probably look dumb right now. But I don’t want to think about it. They go back to their dormitory, I can hear Percy rumbling and talking about me. My eyes follow them. My mouth speaks before my brain stops it.

“Hey, Wood, looking good today by the way !”

I

What

Bloody freaking hell I can feel my cheeks burning up, they are probably as red as my tie. Not only I am starting to dig a hole for myself (as a caring and loving friend) but I am sinking in so fast. Neville is looking at me, his mouth opens then looks back at Wood then at me. I flush even more and decide to purely walk away, running out of the common room.

“I didn’t know you were the flirty kind!” says Neville, behind me.

“As soon as we find your Remembrall, I will make you eat it”, I grumble.

I rub my cheeks, I hate this feeling. I hate being embarrassed, I hate being humiliated. Did the Gryffindors influenced me or am I becoming more stupid each minute I spend away from home?

In the Great Hall, Neville is teasing me, articulating “Oliver Woooood” without saying it. I slap him each time but I then decide to sit next to Potter. "

I am the seeker of the Gryffindor team!” announces proudly Potter once Ron and Hermione arrived.

After a storm of congratulations (which he honestly deserved), Potter gives back to Neville his Remembrall and explains to us what happened with Malfoy.

“Why did you leave, Watson?” asks Ron.

“Just wanted to make sure the boy survived”, I answer casually. "We now got the Boy Who Lived and the Boy Who Survived."

Keeping things light and breezy. The Weasley twins join us and sit next to Harry, and ruffle his hair.

“Well, congrats," says one.

"We’re the beaters of the team », adds the other. “You surely impressed Wood !"

I straight aways notice Neville’s expression and I feel myself tensing up. NO.

"By the way"starts Neville, his shyness having left his body, and his smile too big to be reassuring (for me at least).

Everyone turns to him. Ronald, his brothers, Harry and Hermione. I flush a little and decide to look away, to look at one of the cloud in the Great Hall ceiling, keeping eating as if nothing is happening. I see the fifth years arriving.

"Elizabeth said to Wood that he looked good today.”

“What ?!” yells Fred or George.

“You have betrayed us !" says the other.

I smile clumsily at Hermione who doesn’t seem to believe Neville. Harry bursts into laughter and is followed by the others.

“Ah! Wood ! » says Fred (I am pretty sure) with an amused smile.

My laugh dies immediately and I put as much food in my mouth as possible.

“Watson has a big crush?” asks George, rubbing my hair.

I give him a death stare, chewing as fast as possible while looking at my possibilities. I can either bravely assume and stay with them, and look even more stupid and running away. Yet, my prince arrives.

"Potter !"screams Blondie. I leave George as Blondie finishes his word, and grumble quickly without looking at Wood.

“Sorry, gotta save the Boy Who Lived!” I run away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! The story is not gonna be centered about any love story right now (Elizabeth is only 11 years old) and NOTHING is gonna happen between Wood and her (for the moment at least) but I thought that having a crush on a older student is on brand ;) and... can we honestly blame her?!


	6. Chapter 5 or Bullying is bad kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Ronald is a pain. Hermione is too sensible. Harry is just vibing. And I? I am trying to get to the fabulous Halloween banquet but everything seems to get in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour bonjour! Bonsoir actually.
> 
> How are you guys doing? How are you enjoying the weather? I, for one, am enjoying the cold and humid air just came back from a walk with my dog. I am living the "sweater weather" life and I am living it fully. I am supposed to pass the TOEFL next Saturday and was hoping some of you had advice?   
> Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

I finally found a scarf from each House, and I wear them proudly, sometimes two at once. I also wrote so many letters to my dad and Sherlock, and even one to Lestrade (I sent the letter to my dad and asked him to give it to my favorite Inspector). Neville and I are closer than ever and Hermione is following Potter and Weasley all day every day, even though I tried to make her stop.

Ronald can get mean to her. I know she isn’t the easiest to get along with, she can be judgy. Apparently, Potter, Weasley, and she found a three-headed dog and she mentioned that they might get expelled. Her priority sense is either broken or nonexistent.

I go to every Quidditch training, and the possibility to admire Wood got nothing to do with it. However, the Weasley twins and their comments are going to make me stop.

I am just packing my things up after Charms, Hermione just managed a charm Weasley couldn’t even pronounce right. Hermione and I are discussing the Halloween banquet, the older told us it would grandiose.

“LeviOsa, not LeviosAA! She is a nightmare, honestly! Not wonder she got no friends” says Ronald. 

Hermione stops mid-sentence, and runs aways, bumping into Ronald while doing so.

“Herm…. Weasley!” I yell, feeling my blood boiling. “Happy, you idiot?!”

“Oh I didn't mean that way…” he mumbles, looking away.

“Jealous that a Muggle-born is better than you in magic?” I ask, daring.

He looks at me, outraged.

“What?! Of course not!”

“Well, it looks like it! I hope for you that you’re planning to apologize soon enough or you’ll see that Muggle-born are better than you in magic and good old fist fight!”

I restrain myself from slapping him, looks at each of the other boys, they look away, ashamed. With one last arrogant look, I turn away and try to find Hermione.

“And she got a friend, me!”

Ugh. I want to fight him so badly but I will give him the chance to apologize. I look in the dorms first, and surprise: she is not there. Frowning, I let my stuff on my bed and look again in the common room, bumping into a muscled idiot.

I fell, right on my butt.

“Can’t you be careful, you idiot?!” I ask between my teeth.

“My apologies” smiles the voice.

Of course, the idiot had to be him.

“W-Wood?”

Not freaking now. I am on a mission, Wood. I gotta find my sensible friend before she cried herself to sleep and drown in her tears or something. Also, why do I always humiliate myself in front of Wood?

“Maybe if you weren’t in my way” I conclude, looking around and quickly starting to search for Hermione again.

“Where are you going? Don’t you have classes?”

“You are not old enough to be my dad” I answer.

“Look at that Gred! Our favorite couple!”

“You are surely right Forge, love is truly in the air!”

I am really not in the mood. I turn on my feet and look at them, fist closed and ready.

“You wanna try me today? Come on, I am ready!”

“Let them,” says softly Wood. “They’re idiots.”

I relax and smile.

“You know what? You are absolutely right, Wood! And you don’t want idiots on your team, I am sure that hardening the training might help them mature a bit. Don’t you agree?”

He laughed and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Excellent idea.”

I know.

“Elizabeth! I will kill you!”

I smile at “Gred”.

“You were right. There is love in the air!”

I leave them on this. This day is going to be amaz….HERMIONE.

So, she isn’t in the dorm nor the common room. She is probably in a bathroom or the library. I bet on the former. The library is not a great place to cry in and the librarian is not the most comprehensive woman I know.

Arriving in one bathroom, I am disappointed I didn’t actually bet anything: she is right there, her hands hiding her face but I can hear her sobbing.

“Hermione?”

“Leave me alone!”

“Hermione, he is an idiot, a pathetic angry, and sad little man looking for attention. He is not worth you crying in the bathroom. He is not even worthy for you to talk to him.”

I hear a sad little laugh. I smile. I sit on the ground, cursing at the idiot who decided all the girls should wear a skirt. Didn’t he hear about feminism? Why don’t the boys wear a kilt? For equality’s sake!

“You know, I am here for you. I might not be the best friend in the world, but I am your friend, and I am waiting for you to feel better.” I keep talking, taking off my tie.

“I… I…”

“Don’t worry. Take your time. We can stay here.”

I lay my head on the wall, taking a nap. But I am rudely interrupted by a boy’s voice.

“Is Hermione here?”

I turn to Neville and nod.

“Yes, she will come soon. Go to class, Longbottom, and if the Professor asks where we are, you don’t know anything.”

He hesitates but leaves anyway, one last glance to the stall where Hermione is. I rest my head again and ask with a smile.

“You know Wood?”

“The boy you have a crush on?”

I flush.

“I don’t have a crush on Wood” I lie. “I think he looks good.”

“You like him.”

“Maybe. But you like Ronald.”

“What ?! No!”

I don’t argue, just roll my eyes. After an hour, I try to make her come out but she refuses. The memories of each and every time she was made fun of are coming to her mind. I listen to her sobbing, trying to calm her, with the door still locked.

To say it’s difficult is a euphemism.

After a few hours, she finally opens the door, her eyes red and puffy and sniffling. I sight and take her in my arms. Suddenly, I hear something in my back and a small scream in my ear. It doesn’t sound good. I turn around slowly.

A troll.

A TROLL.

“I asked that woman if her castle was safe and she said yes”, I say, my voice shaking.

Hermione slowly goes back in her step, hiding in her stall. The troll doesn’t seem to like it, he rises his mass and hits the bathroom stalls, destroying them.

“BLOODY FUCKING HELL”

I am my father’s daughter.

Guess who left her wand on her bed because this castle is safe and I don’t need magic to fight Ronald anyway? I hate myself right now.

I go to the other side of the room, taking a piece of a chunk of stone, and throw it at the Troll who looks at me.

“Hey! I never throw away my shot! Try to catch me, idiot!”

Doesn’t seem to like my musical reference, neither does anyone now that I think of it, and the Troll walks towards me. A few seconds later, Potter and Weasley appeared, like knights.

“Come on the Boy Who Lived, help me live too!” I scream as the Troll catches my arm and shakes me.

What the f…

I would like to say that I had some cool ass punchline, like “does he think I am a shaker?” but I honestly just screamed and almost cried. I have a sad thought for the fabulous banquet I am missing while Potter helps Hermione and Hermione gives a freaking Charms class to Ronald.

"Swish and flick!" she explains pedagogically. 

"Swish and flick away but do it faster!!"

After one difficult but successful levitation spell, the Troll is knocked out and fell with a sinister noise. I fell with him and feel my ankle cracks. I hide my grimace and ask around.

“Everyone okay? Hermione?”

“I am fine…” she whispers, still under shock.

I smile at Ronald.

“Sorry for what I said earlier. And thank you.”

“Why was there a troll?” he asks as if I had an answer.

But why though? That’s a great question. I know there is magic and stuff but this seems too big to be just a basic accident on a Thursday.

I catch Potter’s eyes.

“Sorry by the way.”

“Sorry?” he repeats.

“Today is the 31st of October, isn't it?"

“Oh… right.”

“Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Watson! What are we doing here? Oh… Merlin!”

Look at that! Quirrell, Snape, and McGonagall.

“Wh.. What..”

And bam. Something happens. Something coming straight up from some Dr. Who episode, some spatiotemporal fail or something. Hermione takes a step forward.

“It was my fault, Professor McGonagall.”

Ron, Harry, and I cannot restrain our gasp and even Snape raises an eyebrow. We all stare at her.

“I thought I could fight the troll but..”

“Weasley and Potter were at the banquet, not you Miss Watson” smiles coldly Snape, already excited about putting me in detention.

I smile back.

“And I was following her, impatient to show her how stupid her idea was. And I was right.”

Snape looks disappointed.

McGo takes points from Hermione and I, she also informs us that she will tell on us to our parents and finally concludes with

“Five points to each,” she says to Ron and Harry.

“What?”

I stand up, ignoring my ankle.

“So! Professor Snape takes 20 points from us when he doesn’t like our hairdo and Ron and Harry save our lives and only get five points! This is…”

“Do you want to lose these 10 points, Watson?” she says, threatening.

I don’t answer but look at her, hoping my eyes say everything.

“Go back to your dorms!”

As soon as we set a foot in the common room, Perceval rushes to us, his glasses askew.

“Where were you? Ronald, where were you?”

If he wasn’t a pain in my… I could find it touching how worried he was.

“Ronald was rude to Hermione. Hermione went to the bathroom. Hermione cried. I stay with her because I am her friend. Troll arrived. Ronald and Potter saved the day. The end.” I explain with a robotic voice.

I let him ask for more details to his brother and try to go to my dorms but Neville goes in my way, with an excited smile.

“I got you candies from the banquet!”

“You are the best!”

I take the candies bag Neville hands to me and thank him again, then go to my dorms. I eat all the candies by myself, without any shame, after all, tomorrow is my birthday! I am too excited to fall asleep. I go through my stuff and find the sweater I stole from my dad before going to Hogwart. I put it on and go back in my bed, a smile on my lips before falling sound asleep.

ooOOOOoo

“Elizabeth…”

“Mmh…”

“Elizabeth.”

“Two minutes Mrs Hudson..”

“Who? This is Hermione.”

I open my eyes, ready to go.

“A troll again?”

“No” she smiles. “But a package. And it is big.”

I frown and sit up. I still have my dad’s sweater on and I am ready to go. Keeping a huge smile, I run through the stairs.

“Hey Watson!”

“Busy Finnigan!” I say, petting Frodo who is proudly waiting next to a big package.

I honestly don’t care about anyone seeing me in my pajamas. Hogwart is my home and I am too lazy to wear clothes every day in my home.

A box full of scones prepared with love by Mrs Hudson.

A book about the greatest cases of Scotland Yard from Lestrade.

A box full of super expensive teas from Mycroft. My dad was right, the grumpy and arrogant Holmes gave me a gift!

A book about the Pure Blood Wizard Families from my dad. The book is full of Sherlock’s notes (“Stupid”, “This happened during the case of…”, “Probably not real”).

And three letters.

I run upstairs, hiding my stuff right away (Ronald and his never-ending stomach will not get to my scones) and I sit comfortably in my bed.

« _Elizabeth,_

_Your dad and I chose that book. I managed to stop him from getting you clothes. You can thank me during your Christmas break._

_Still waiting for your report on Dumbledore and Potter._

_Happy whatever._

_Sherlock H. »_

I will absolutely thank him for not letting my dad buying me clothes. I love him but I don’t trust his expertise on fashion.

_« Elizabeth,_

_My brother told me about the mission he gave you. I advise you to not follow his steps, try not to get noticed. It might be the easiest way to navigate._

_Sherlock is looking for your return, although he will not admit it._

_Focus on your studies._

_Happy birthday._

_MH”_

Miss you too Mickey.

_“Sweetheart,_

_I am sorry not to be here for your birthday. But I am thinking of you. Don’t worry, you will get a proper « party » with me during your Christmas break. I hope you are having as much fun as you tell us in your letters._

_I supposed you already unwrap your gift. I tried to stop Sherlock from writing in it but he is quicker than I thought._

_Everyone says hi and wishes you a happy birthday!_

_I love you._

_Dad.”_

My smile is even bigger than before. They haven’t changed a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope your like it. Hope you are not too disappointed I am a Hamilton hardcore fan (but don't worry, the theatre culture is very weak where I live, I have to live my passion by myself and isolated from others).   
> Spend a good evening.


	7. Chapter 6 or The Unfair Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth's date with Snape goes well, Harry's first game not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir!!
> 
> Sorry for the late posting, I had the TOEFL this morning, then went shopping for my birthday gift and had to work for a bit. Uni work is slowly pilling up and I am trying to organize everything. But now that the TOEFL is out of the way, I will (hopefully) have more time for other things... like pressuring myself into being productive 24/7 or I will not consider myself as a worthy human being :))))

Fixing up my Gryffindor’s scarf, my cheeks are getting burned by the cold wind of early November. I am reading the book my father gifted me. Sitting down against the old oak, I sometimes look around and admire the Whomping Willow.

Merlin knows how much I love this tree, nothing and no one can come close to her, everyone is scared of her and even her name makes the first years tense up. Sometimes I wonder who is the scariest: the Whomping Willow or Voldemort? Does it matter? I doubt so.

I love staying here, enjoying the fresh air, the smell of humid dirt, and admiring the forbidden forest. The one who named it that way either did not any teenagers or exactly know how they work and did it intentionally. There is something calming about enjoying a good book outside, enjoying the presence of my best friend in silence.

Don't tell Neville I told you that.

I go back to my book, it is about the Pur Blood families. I love how braggy they are about their heritage, it gives me so much information about them without having to deduce anything.

_"Pure-blood families are wizards and witches without known Muggles or Muggle-borns on their family tree. Some have achieved this simply by removing any Muggles or squibs from their family trees and pretending they never existed."_

To be completely honest, though, the book is the most objective reading I have done. Usually, the author just flatters the magic abilities of Pur Blood wizards.

Next to me, Neville is also busy reading, about herbology of course. He is as good and knowledgeable in this class as I am not. We have a tacit agreement. I help him in potions, and he helps me in herbology.

“Elizabeth ?"

"Mmh ?" answer without looking up.

“Trio number one is on its way.”

Trio number one is Potter, Weasley, and Granger. They are chill and we consider them as friends, even though Ronald is not my biggest fan. Trio number two is composed of Blondie, idiot 1 and idiot 2. They love to bother Neville but they are scared of me, which means that they mostly stay away.

“Watson !" screams Ronald.

Do I actually want to answer? ugh.

“Mmh?”

“Snape… " starts Harry.

"Professor Snape" corrects Hermione, visibly annoyed by Harry’s vocabulary.

By Prince Charles’ condom, thank you for existing Hermione Granger.

"Professor Snape took my book. Well, actually, he took "Quidditch through the age" which I borrowed from the library. According to him, we cannot read library books outside the library! It’s not true!”

“And why is that my problem?” 

"Could you please get it for me? I went to see him but he didn’t open the door so…”

I appreciate the fact of having trio number one needing my help. I will help, I just want to keep them asking. 

I am cruel like that.

“So you came in anyway and now you’re complaining because he hates you so much?” I sight.

“Wait till he finishes Elizabeth !" says Ron.

He is on a first-name basis with me now? Not that I mind but I hope Hermione won’t be jealous or anything.

"When I came in, he was getting fixed up by Filch. He was talking about a three-headed dog. I am sure he was the one who let the troll in to distract the other teachers and see what the dog was hiding!”

I put my fingers on my temples and give myself a small head massage, having the awful impression I am the adult here. And I thought leaving my dad and Sherlock meant leaving being the responsible one. I slowly stand up, making sure everyone can see how annoyed I am.

“Listen, Harry, I know that you are a sweet, and nice guy, very humble and stuff.”

His face is boiling with embarrassment, I could almost also see the fumes from his face.

“But Snape doesn’t like you. And that doesn’t mean he is the villain in your story. If he was some sort of undercover killer, Dumby would have already…”

“Dumby?” repeats Neville.

“Dumbledore,” I explain, ignoring Hermione’s disapproving look.

“Dumby would know. He is smarter than he makes us believe. Plus, are you asking me to get your book for you?”

So not only the Boy Who Lived is as red as my scarf, but he is also looking away.

“Well, you are the Gryffindor he tolerates the most. Could you please try?”

“Okay, but only if you stop judging a book by its cover” I answer with arrogance.

The dramatic side of it is just to amuse me. I don’t mind spending time with Snape, quite the opposite. I am not his favorite, that’s for sure. But I am indeed the Gryffindor he hates the least. The Weird Hat must have told him about the House I was supposed to be in. Or he just pities me after seeing who I was living with at home. 

I knock on the door.

“Come in!” says the deep voice of Sevy-Sweetie.

I come in, unemotional, and not really scared. Believe me, once you faced a Sherlock in nicotine withdrawal and high caffeinated Mycroft, you can face anything and anyone. I politely salute Snape.

“What do you want, Watson? Did Potter come to you and complain about me?” he mocks.

“Indeed, Professor” I answer, making my voice sounds as exhausted as possible. “Besides complaining and being arrogant, I wonder what he does of his day. I understood and respect the sanction you gave him but the problem is… I was the one who borrowed "Quidditch Through the Age" for my own personal knowledge.”

Snape raises on his feet, cold as ever, and I start to regret lying to his face. He seems to be the kind who knows exactly when one lies.

“Your name is yet nowhere to be found,” he remarks.

“Do you think I want people to know that I am interested in.. Quidditch?”

I am so so sorry Wood.

“So I asked Potter to get it for me, but that idiot is not able to do such a simple task and managed to get confiscated” I sigh dramatically. “That is the whole reason for my visit. To get it back.”

Snape makes something with his lips that could look like a smile if it wasn’t deathly.

“Miss Watson, do you believe I am an idiot?”

“No Professor.”

Probably an unfair bastard but I admire that.

“So why are you lying to me?”

Let’s play then. I cross my arms and look back at him.

“I am not lying, Professor,” I respond, having studied the way Mycroft lies and is able to make one believes anything. “I am here to get back the book I borrowed so that I can read it peacefully.”

He makes a step forward and leans a little bit. I have to raise my chin to follow his eyes.

“Miss Watson, I am able to tell when I am lied to.”

“Professor, if you truly are a man of science, you have no certainty. Except, maybe, if you abuse your magic powers, but I would not accuse you of such a thing. Because, in that particular case, I am pretty sure any lies I say would not be the actual issue.”

I try to hide my fear as well as I can and I am pretty sure I am good at it.

“Can I get back my book, Sir?”

I can see in his eyes that he wants to smile as much as he wants to kill me. I do that to a lot of people. After a while, he bluntly goes to his desk and hands me the book. I thank him, as if the thanks hurt my lips, and lead myself to the door.

“Watson.”

I turn back to him.

“What are you doing in Gryffindor?”

He is such a fan he is disappointed I am not in his House. I refrain myself from smiling and shrug my shoulders.

“If I were to believe the clichés assigned to the Houses I would say that a Slytherin would have stolen back the book in your office while you were away. A Ravenclaw would have gotten the book confiscated in the first place. A Huffelpuff would have waited or found an amazing excuse to get it back. A Gryffindor would have done like a Slytherin but less well planned or would have confronted you. I like to believe that I am beyond all of this nonsense and act in my own way, Professor.”

He let me go without any other comment but I am pretty sure he is impressed.

ooOOOoo

“GRYFFINDOR GRYFFINDOR GRYFFINDOR”

I sigh hearing the screams of the other Gryffindors. If screams could help the end of the game, they would use babies as supporters. I cannot hear myself think anymore and it is a pain. I am only here for Potter and Wood, and maybe the twins. Potter waved at me and Wood smiled at me twice, they made the game a little bit more manageable. I clapped weakly. I am cold, I am bored and I hate all those noises.

The Slytherins play… like Slytherin. Lee’s comments are amazing though, and they could make me come to another game. I love staring Snape each time his player makes a fault and Lee comments about it. He looks like himself: cold and disappointed, his team is losing. I am eager to go back to my book but I am afraid I would get beaten up. So I do the next best thing: I zone out and try to remember the smell of Baker Street. Old tobacco, and the Speedy's cooking.

“Elizabeth, look at Harry!”

I open my eyes and see that everyone is staring at Potter, no surprise there but the reason why is actually surprising. Harry’s broomstick decided to live an independent life from the one it was assigned to. Harry tries to gain control of the broomstick back but the struggles don’t seem to lead anywhere.

“Someone must be casting a spell,” I say, looking at the galleries.

“There! Snape!” screams Hermione, showing the Potion master with her finger.

Indeed, Snape is not taking his eyes off Potter, his lips moving quickly and I am certain he is saying some sort of spell. All the good things I said about him seem to be destroyed. Ronald is polite enough to not tell me “I Told You So” but I can see it in his eyes.

“It is actually amazing if you think of it, he is cursing a wandless spell.”

“What can we do?!” asks Ronald.

“Follow me!” orders Hermione.

I am not part of this, I see. I sigh and cross my arms. Fred and George Weasley are flying next to Harry, trying to catch him. Wood is staying near the goals but he seems sick worried. The other Gryffindors try to keep playing but their minds are not into anymore. The Slytherin seem relieved by this distraction.

I grumble and glance a look at Snape, I wonder what is Hermione going to do. She is smart and witty but still… will she actually do something to a Professor? A few minutes later, my questions are answered. The whole row stands up screaming and I can observe some flames. As he stands up, Snape pushes Professor Quirrell and two other men and they fall from the bench. Harry is finally able to go back on the broomstick and back to the quest to the golden snitch. Hermione and Ron come back to me as Harry catches the small ball with his mouth. I don’t wanna think about how many hands touched that thing before his mouth.

“So? What are you going to say to defend him?” asks Ron with a smile.

“I suppose he had a good reason. Dumby trusts him. I trust Dumby.”

“Everybody makes mistake.”

“Okay Hannah Montana, but you before him.”

The Gryffindors go back on the ground and I allow myself to shout some joyful screams and raise proudly my Gryffindor scarf. When they go to the changing rooms, I wait for them with Ron, Hermione, and Neville. Hagrid went to see Dumbledore.

I sit down on the humid grass. When Potter comes out, I look up.

“How do you feel?”

“Someone was casting a spell on me, right?”

The twins come out as well, stretching, and yawning

“There you are, do you know who did this to Harry?”

I fear Ron and Hermione's answers and wanting to avoid some sort of stupid and dangerous rumor being thrown around, I respond.

“No. no idea.”

Wood finally arrives and I stand up, ignoring Neville’s amused expression. I congratulate him for the game.

“Thank you! But it is also thanks to our amazing seeker.”

The keeper is great too.

“Oliver is right.” Says wisely, George.

I am 86% sure it’s him.

“Yes” approves Fred. “Knock on wood.”

As soon as Fred finishes his sentence, they both knock on Wood shoulder with a dead serious expression. I love them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!! Please don't hesistate to comment, leave kudos or a elbow check!!


	8. Chapter 7 or The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth is finally back home but her Dad is nowhere to be found... And who is gonna pick her from the Station? Hopefully one of the Holmes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir!
> 
> Good news: I got 108/120 on my TOEFL. The kudos you guys are giving me means I am getting some serotonin. My ego is glad. Also, I bought lots of books. Great.  
> Bad news: quarantine is back baby! also I feel so sad and idk why :))) might put David Copperfield with Dev Patel on and try empty my brain

Hagrid should keep things for himself. Too many of his friends are -somewhat- animals and now that he found some (friends, not animals, c’mon) who speak English, he shares too many things. For example, he confessed to trio number one that the three-headed dog had the adorable name of “Fluffly”, and that the thing he was keeping had something to do with Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel. Since then, these three idiots have been doing researches and trying to prove to me that Snape was the mean one.

I regret to inform you that they are convincing me. Or at least, they were convincing me. Right now, I decided to put everything concerning Hogwart in a corner of my head. Harry and the Weasleys are staying at Hogwart for the break, but I am not. I am going home.

I am sharing my compartment with Neville and Hermione, also regretting this choice. They are making fun of me, completely ignoring my death stares.

“Oh Wooooood you are amazing! So agile and-…”

“Shut up, Big Pee Pee.”

“I love to be the coldest first year, but I can warm up for you, Oliver!”

“…W-What?!Hermione Granger!”

They are still going on and on.

“Neville, I will tell everything to your grandmother! You both won! I am not talking to you guys.”

Proud and dignified, I put my nose back in my book and try to ignore them. They try to bribe me with candies, empty promises, and…

“Elizabeth, are we going to see each other during the break?” asks Hermione.

Trying to picture Sherlock meeting Hermione’s parents. Picturing Sherlock deducing some adultery stories or something. Picturing my dad trying to pick up the broken pieces of their family.

“No… no no no!”

They both frown and look at me, curious and confused.

“I-… Well, it won’t be possible.”

“I see.”

The rest of the trip is great, we do our own things in comfortable silence, sometimes interrupted when either Hermione or I ask for the definition of a word. The closer we get to King’s Cross, the more I feel the lump in my throat growing. I go put my Muggles clothes on.

Man, I forgot how amazing it is to walk in pants and sweatshirts.

When the train stops, I am the first one coming out. I drag my trunk and carry Frodo’s cage. Neville goes quickly to his grandmother and Hermione to her parents.

I look around.

Where is my dad?

I try to find John Watson, my jaws clenched together and my fists closed, feeling the disappointment leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I see Blondie going back to his parents who have the brightest fakest smile I have seen. I sigh and decide to, at least, help Longbottom.

“Sorry to bother, Madam,” I say, joining Neville and his grandmother. “I am Elizabeth Watson. Gryffindor.”

The old lady looks at me, suspiciously. I stay brave and proud, trying to avoid Neville’s begging look to not do anything.

“I am friend with your grandson, Neville. I just wanted to let you know that Neville has been helping me a big deal in herbology. Without him, I would have already failed the class. And he is pretty good in the other classes, he just underestimates himself.”

She says nothing, she is staring at me, eyes narrowed, and tighten her purse closer to her.

“Wish you a very happy festive season! Send me a card Neville!” I smile.

Turning on my feet, my mouth stays open. Mycroft Holmes. In the midst of the people, there he is, his umbrella on his forearm and looking around coldly. He looks lost and yet, he looks like he exactly knows what he is doing.

He looks mad. But he always looks mad.

“Mycroft!”

He turns around and, just like Marie Ingalls would in the “Little House on the Prairie”, I run to him and stop myself from hugging him. But at the very last second. So I have my arms almost around him but I am not touching him. He pets my head with disgust as if I were some sort of deformed puppy. Mycroft has a repelled look to Frodo. Rude, man. My owl is looking fresh and pretty.

“I missed you,” I say very quickly. “Where is my dad?”

I roll my eyes.

“A case?”

“I am afraid so”, he answers without looking at me.

I sigh again and start to walk to the exit.

“Watson!”

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

I turn around, facing Wood, already feeling my cheeks warm. I feel Mycroft’s suspicious look in my back. Not now, I have a reputation.

“Yes, Wood?” I ask, as indifferently as I can, contrasting with my cheeks which are as warm as they can be.

He is confused. No shit Sherlock. I got a Holmes to impress.

“Neville Longbottom told me you wanted to wish me a merry Christmas.”

I guess it’s my payback for talking to his grandmother.

“But I-…”

“Merry Christmas anyways!” he smiles before hugging me briefly.

What now

“Y-You to…” I stutter, avoiding his eyes and feeling myself blushing even more.

“I got something for you by the way!”

He gives me a small package with nice wrapping paper. Crap I got nothing.

“My… my gift is in my suitcase. It would be a pain to take it out! But I will send it to you!”

I look up. He smiles at me, a sweet smile. I may have fallen for him but I am not stupid, he is just being nice. I am a young impressionable first year. But I will take it anyway.

He salutes Mycroft and me and then leaves. Mycroft is staring down at me. I look right in front of me.

“Olivier Wood, mmh?”

“Maybe. I don’t know for certain.”

As we enter the muggle side of the station, I can see the Granger family. These vacations are not relaxing at all. I fear I might become cardiac. Hermione walks towards us with a smile.

“You are Elizabeth’s father, right?”

Oh no.

“I am Hermione Granger”, she keeps talking. “A friend of her. She is much nicer than she pretends to be. She is just… very impulsive. A true Gryffindor! Eight detentions in two months, that’s a record.”

Maybe if I run really fast and hide at the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of the break, I will be fine.

Mycroft raises his eyebrows, Hermione notices that I am trying to find the closet exit. She stops talking.

“Oh… You didn’t know?”

“Thank you so much, Miss Granger”, smiles Mycroft, hypocritical. “Although, I am not her father. But Dr. Watson will be enchanted to know everything you just told me.”

Mycroft wishes a “Merry Christmas” to Hermione’s parents. Hermione is trying to apologize to the power of her eyes.

Ashamed as ever, I follow Mycroft in silence, waiting for the thunder to hit.

“A flirt, detentions, and impulsivity. You did everything I told you not to.”

“So you are my father now, mmh?”

I can feel the death stare again.

“I didn’t kill anyone. I am just a 12 years old girl who sometimes talks back. All of these Professors got a broomstick where they shouldn’t. Also, have you met my dad and his best friend? I plead non guilty and I put the responsibility on them! Also, I have just said that I missed you and I don’t want to regret saying it.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. I think I won. I grumble and hop in the car with him. I look at him with the most hopeful look I can manage to do.

“Are you going to keep everything for yourself?”

“You think so?”

“I don’t know how the Queen can trust you.”

I cross my arms and put my forehead, sighing dramatically. The worst is that I am not mad, I am very happy to see him and excited to see my dad. After several minutes, I smile.

“My dad wasn’t available and you came. Yourself. You missed me too.”

He looks down at me, figuratively as well as literally, as if I didn’t possess an ounce of intelligence.

“No. The Detective Inspector Lestrade, and Miss Hudson don’t know about your particularity. And we don’t want to tell more people than necessary about it.”

My particularity, that’s a cute name for saying that I can make pineapples dance.

“I could have taken a cab, then.” I groan.

We arrive at Baker Street. He stops the car and doesn’t even come out, letting me struggles with my trunk, and doesn’t say goodbye. I look at the car leaving and shrug my shoulders.

Before I knock on the door, it is opened and Mrs Hudson welcomes me just as I deserve. She hugs so tight I am afraid I might lose consciousness and I let her do it, enjoying the feeling of home I am getting from the embrace. I answer some of her questions, elude some others.

“Your father and Sherlock should arrive very soon!” she promises me, helping me getting my stuff upstairs.

She was very confused about the fact that I needed an owl for school but it seems that she got used to it.

“I am so happy you are back, make yourself at home”, she tells me after looking at me as if I were the messiah who just arrived.

I do so.

I put Frodo in my bedroom, put one of the pajamas I didn’t take to Hogwart on, and borrow one of my dad’s sweater. My fingers brush on each and every furniture in the flat. I open the fridge, looking at some fingers chilling in a mason jar. I open the cabinets, grateful when I see that they are full. I put the TV on, just for the pleasure of enjoying some good old technology again.

And I sit down in Sherlock’s chair with a relieved smile.

Home sweet home.

I spend twenty minutes in that heavenly state before I raise up and decide to make some tea. I should make her taste a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and show my dad the Chocolate Frogs I got. I also warm up some pasta that – I suppose – my dad made. I hope and pray it wasn’t Sherlock.

As I am chewing the last pieces of my meal, I can hear the cracks of the stairs, the sign of someone coming up. I smile a little bit more, trying to conceal my excitation.

“Elizabeth?” calls my Dad, still coming up.

“Maybe Mycroft refused to take her in. You know how much he hates that owl, “ answers Sherlock.

I put my empty dish in the sink and go back to the living room as my Dad opens the door.

“No. Mycroft took me in.”

My dad stops right there and looks at me with a very stupid, but very happy smile.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Sweet-what

Before I can ask about that nickname, he already took me in his arms. I hug him back.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Nine detentions? Are you kidding me?”

“Mycroft is a snake. And it was eight.”

“I told you”, says Sherlock. “What about Oliver Wood?”

I step back.

“Eight detentions because I refused to learn stupid useless information by heart and question everything that was told to me. I might have responded once or twice but… puberty, you know. Oliver Wood is the captain of the Quidditch team of Gryffindor. Quidditch is a sport on a broomstick. I don’t exactly know why Mycroft told you about him anyway.”

They don’t believe me for the last part. It was worth trying.

“Captain? How old is he?”

“15 years old. Maybe 16. I don’t know. We are not close.”

He didn’t trust me this time either. I could have said, “You should have seen my Potion Professor’s ass in that robe!” I would have gotten the same reaction. I roll my eyes.

“I don’t know him!”

“You got a crush said Mycroft. Ridicule.”

I close my fists.

“At least my crush isn’t a dominatrix who almost killed me.”

Sherlock seems outraged.

“My crush?” he dares ask.

“Dad says more in his letters than you might think!”

My dad seems embarrassed.

“Elizabeth, Sherlock, come on… El’, tell us about Hogwart!”

Mmh. I can do that.

I tell them about everything. My inability to do herbology, my fascination for transfiguration, my actual talent in potion. I talk about the greasy hair of Snape, the strict bun of McGo, Quirrell’s turban. I mention how sweet and gentle Hagrid is but maybe… Too sweet?

I talk about Neville, his fear of disappointing anyone he cares about. This fear which makes him clumsy all the time. About Hermione who is afraid of not being witchy enough. About Ronald, always in his brothers' shadow. About Harry, pretty lost in his celebrity he doesn’t understand. About the twins, who could be the funniest person I know. About Percy who wants to be perfect all the time. About Oliver and…

I recognize that I may have gotten overboard Wood but I didn’t deserve the “Stupid” that Sherlock threw at me.

I smile gently et give him a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans (dirty sock).

“Got that one for you. Wizards don’t smoke, they eat that instead.”

I give my dad a chocolate one. I take one for myself. They all look the same, it seems to reassure Sherlock who eats it confidently.

My Dad almost died of laughter. Sherlock didn’t talk to me anymore that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can someone teach me to play among us? i fear failure so bad I refuse to play if I am not somewhat good immediately :) I am a nightmare :) ahahah


	9. Chapter 8 or The Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Mariah Carey is not the only one to get romantic on Christmas, my dad decided to bring his girlfriend today! He never talked about her, but he decided this is the good day? We'll see about that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir
> 
> This is the fourth time I am trying to post this. There might be typos, I apologize. Also, I had a very full and difficult week so this is not my best-written chapter, and I also apologize.
> 
> BUT  
> I also hope you are enjoying the day! I hope you are enjoying the fact that Trump LOST today, I hope you are taking the time to let yourself be happy and joyful. We will have plenty of time to be worried about Biden's policies tomorrow. 
> 
> Be happy for a while, I feel like 2020 taught us how precious joy is (and also that one can only enjoy animal crossing for so long)

I left Hermione’s Christmas gift in her trunk, as soon as she was looking somewhere else I hid “The Muggle Born who changed the Magic World”, right next to her underwear. As it's the 24th of December, I sent Frodo to give his gift to Neville, a flitterbloom, a plant pretty badass. At least that’s what he told me. It looked nice.

When Frodo is back, I will give him the gifts for Harry, Ron, and the twins. I didn't try too hard, I made apple muffin. For Wood, I ordered from Flourish and Blotts "The British Quidditch Players: Their Young Years at Hogwart". Hope he will like it, added a note with “Neville lied to you, but thank you anyway! Enjoy your reading!-E. Watson”

Staying in my room for a while. The guest won’t arrive before a few minutes and I am nervous that I am seeing everyone, I don’t know why.

Nevermind. I know why. Sherlock told me my dad was going to bring his girlfriend. My dad didn’t say anything about it, I guess he is just going to put me on the spot. Not a fan of his strategy.

So, I am perfecting my plan, “No More Girlfriend”, as I am putting on my Christmas clothes. It’s basically a suit. A boy suit nonetheless. It was cheaper. Because even twelve years girls must pay the prices of being a girl.

In the living room, Sherlock is already pouting his heart out. He really is my favorite.

“You guys are ready?” asks joyfully my dad.

“Dr. Watson I don’t know to whom you are talking with such familiarity but I would like you to stop”, I answer without leaving my eyes off the TV.

He still does not know that I am calling him “Dr. Watson” because Sherlock told me about his girlfriend. But he will learn soon enough.

“Elizabeth”, he sighs.

“I agree with her”, adds Sherlock, as cold as I was.

Facing two pouting pigheaded, good old John gives up and put the Christmas decorations by himself.

When Lestrade arrives, I open the door, leaving Mrs. Hudson with Dr. Watson and Sherlock. I take a deep breath. This is going to be an Oscar-worthy performance.

As the door opens, tears fill my eyes, and Gregory looks at me, horrified.

“Elizabeth… What… What is going on?”

“Gregory, Dad doesn’t love me anymore” I whimper.

Honestly, I don’t know how I convinced that bloody hat to send me to Gryffindor.

“What makes you say that?” asks Lestrade, very lost.

He doesn’t know if he can hug me, he doesn’t know if he can say something, his hand is hesitating but slowly going to my shoulders. I will make it easy, faking a sob, I rush in his arms.

“He is in love with someone! He didn’t even talk to me first! I leave and suddenly he forgets about me!”

Lestrade rubs my back. I hear my dad coming down the stairs.

“Elizabeth is everything fi… What is happening?”

“Apparently, the fact that you got together with someone without talking about it is upsetting her”, reproaches Lestrade.

The best. He is the best.

“You kn… Sherlock! Elizabeth, sweetheart.”

“Again, Dr. Watson, we are not that close”, I say, dignified and stepping back.

What I would not do to make my dad’s love life go to hell.

I smile at Lestrade.

“I am so glad you’re here. I missed you Lestrade.”

He smiles back. On my way upstairs, I stick my tongue out to my dad. He rolls his eyes. I sit in Sherlock’s spot, a he is on his computer and he looks mad too.

“Sherlock, can you do me a favor?”

He deigns looking at me.

“When Jeanette arrives, can you put your tongue in my dad’s throat and pretend you guys are in a passionate relationship?”

“No need.”

“I could sell the pictures to the tabloids and get myself a college fund.”

He smirks.

Lestrade and Dr. Watson finally come in, talking manipulation and Holmes. A few seconds later, the bell rings and my Dad almost runs downstair, a grin on his lips. Mrs. Hudson seems to have been given the mission to distract me.

“Did your friends send you gifts?”

“Yes. They’re on the sofa. I was asked to open them at midnight.”

Hermione actually threatened me. Lestrade follows my eyes and looks at my gifts with curiosity.

“What are your friends' names?”

“Hermione, Neville, Ronald, and Harry.”

“Are they nice?”

Sherlock and I both look up.

“They are the absolute worst. Hermione robs banks. Neville has for a hobby watching people die. Ronald sells organs on the black market. And Harry is a killer since he was one year old.”

The last one is not a complete lie. Lestrade is not as amused as I am. I thought my joke was pretty funny.

My dad is back, to his arms is a woman who looks identically to Robb Stark’s wife in Game of Thrones and it’s honestly unsettling.

My dad is avoiding my eyes. Sherlock and I are starring both of them but they pretend we don’t exist.

It’s on.

My dad whispers something in Jeanette’s ears. She approaches with a gentle smile. I almost feel bad for her.

“You must be Elizabeth?” she smiles.

“Well, I sure hope my dad has not another daughter he hid from, I suppose I am, yes.”, I say harshly. “No need to be polite and hypocrite with me.”

Lestrade’s eyes go from me to Sherlock a few times, then he looks at my dad and shakes his head as if he thought of something impossible.

Jeanette doesn’t smile anymore. She looks tensed. She has a side glanced at my Dad who is talking with Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock left his computer, looking at me.

“I see.”, she says slowly. “You remind me of Sherlock..”

“Why is that? Because I am brutally honest. I apologize in advance. This has nothing to do with you. I am just sad and upset that I only have two weeks with my dad and he decided to invite a random stranger for Christmas. I heard Christmas is the day for a second chance, I guess you ruin the first one when you accepted to spend the day here.”

My dad is angry. Like red angry. His fists are closed. Sherlock is smiling. Jeanette is dumbfounded. Lestrade is persuaded I am Sherlock’s daughter. Mrs. Hudson is exhausted.

“Elizabeth. Go to your room.”

“D.. Dr. Watson! It’s Christmas! She can stay! It’s unfair!”

“She is more polite than you. You can come when you’re ready to apologize.”

I try to let him know how mad I am just with my eyes. It does not work. Will ask Snape to teach me.

“Say hi to Molly for me,” I ask Lestrade.

“Elizabeth?” calls Sherlock.

I turn around. Sherlock gifts me with one of his rare smiles, nodding softly.

“You’re welcome”, I smirk.

“In your room!” orders my Dad with his best Soldier-Voice.

I obey, slamming the door to make sure everyone knows that I am mad as well. I lay on my bed, observing the white ceiling. I know how I acted. I know that I deserve it but…

I didn’t know he would actually punish me.

Maybe now that I am away he is not as needy as he was. When I first arrived he never raised his voice like me, always afraid that I would be mad at him. He does not seem to care anymore.

I miss being my mom’s absolute priority.

Not now you bloody idiot.

I wipe away my tears, rise up, and open my bedroom window. It’s the smallest window of the apartment, but it is still enough to watch the soft snow coming down. Hate the city snow. It’s usually very cold rain and doesn’t stay on long enough.

Hogwart must be gorgeous. Excited to see it in person. Excited to go back.

After a while, someone knocks on my door, would bet my secret hatch of candies that it’s my dad. I open the door and smile (in my head, no way I am showing Dr. Watson that I am happy to see him). It is.

“Yes?”

“Molly is here. Go say hi.”

“Can I stay?” I ask, sadly.

The hope in my voice is not made up. It is honest. My dad almost cracks.

“No. You have to apologize first.”

“Fair enough. Say hi to Molly from me”, I answer between my teeth.

Taking example from the one and only, Annie from the Parent Trap, I shrug my shoulders.

“And I guess you can say Merry Christmas to your girlfriend, young enough to be my sister.”

He closes his fist. I don’t look away, keeping my eyes up. I fully know that I went too far but I will die on this hill rather than admit it.

“This is enough.”

“I am away for three months! Three whole months of which you could have spent every single day with her! The small poor two weeks when I am here, you neither have time to pick me up from the station nor spending Christmas with me!”

My voice cracked at the end. Unfortunately, it was not part of a strategy, I am both screaming and crying. I can hear the silence of the other room. Everyone heard me whining. This is the worst.

“Should have stayed at school,” I whisper.

“I thought you were old enough to be polite and mature,” he says, not as loud and mad.

“How can I be mature when you brought a girl too young for you without talking to me first? Sherlock told me about it. You never mentioned her, in your letters or even during these last few days. You don’t think I am mature enough. You just thought I would have waited for her to leave to be rude.”

We are starring at each other. Both hurt and upset. It’s awful to realize that I act the same way as him when I am mad. Closing my fist, jaws closed as well, and sometimes even unable to speak correctly. I always acted that way, even before I met him.

“I am not going to put my life on pause because you are away, Elizabeth.”

“You could at least pretend I am in it.”

He stops right away. 

“.. What.. Elizabeth…”

I sigh.

“It does not matter. I will come to give my gifts at midnight. I am not going to say hi to Molly right away. Not against her!” I say, loud enough for her to hear. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

I close my door and roll myself up into a ball and close my eyes, trying to hold back the tears and maybe fall asleep. Should have stayed at Hogwart, with Harry, the twins, and the knowledge of being somewhat appreciated there.

A few minutes later, I hear quick steps, and another door is slammed. Guess Sherlock is pouting too.

I open my transfiguration book, get some stuff done. The grin never stops, imma right?

But my stomach betrays me, growling and complaining so loudly I cannot ignore it. Discreetly, I open my bedroom door and I tiptoe to the kitchen, spotting a plate full of scones.

They are giving each other gifts, thanking one another. Great. Stay busy. Sherlock comes out of his bedroom, looking down at me.

“Didn’t know you were allowed to come out of your bedroom.”

“You traitor” I grumble.

They all turned around to look at me. Putting a scone in my pocket, I smile at Molly.

“Nice you left your corpses to stay with the livings. Hades style.”

“Elizabeth…” starts my dad.

“John… it’s Christmas”, reminds Lestrade.

I am going to marry that guy.

“I have gifts for you guys!” I smile, running to my room while chewing down two pieces of scone.

I have gifts for everyone but Jeannette. Not really my fault, my dad didn’t tell me about her so, how was I supposed to know what she wanted? I have mostly baked stuff. cookies for Lestrade, and some French macarons for Mrs. Hudson. For Molly, I have a voodoo doll which looks like Sherlock, it’s a muggle voodoo doll. I am very afraid of the actual magic ones. For Sherlock, I have a book on children killers, but I put my face on every picture. Just as a warning. For my dad I found a picture of you at three years old, I am so cute and adorable he is just going to melt.

And I got a gun/umbrella for Mycroft, when you shoot, it opens.

I will open my Hogwart related gifts when the guests leave. My dad seems to be still mad.

“Elizabeth”, he calls. “From everyone.”

He gives me a box with small holes in it. I frown my eyebrows but open it. Inside, there is an actual kitten, a black one. The small thing is sleeping. I almost squeal. My Dad tries to show me all the kitten’s accessories, litter, and everything. I don’t even look.

“Do you like it?” asks Molly.

“I love him”, I answer, assuming it’s a boy.

Trying to ignore my Dad’s stupid smile and softly pet the kitty who yawns and looks at me. I observe him as he wakes up and tries to take crumbles of my scones. I don’t even notice the guests leaving, nor Mycrof’s call, nor my dad getting broken up. I am just trying to find the perfect name for the kitty, also hoping he will kill Ron’s awful rat.

As the guests left, I go open my other gifts. My dad sits down on the sofa, rubbing his temples.

“You know, petting cat has been proven to help with stress and anxiety.”

“Has it?” he says.

Hermione’s gift is obviously a book, about diseases in the magic world. Interesting enough I guess. Neville offered me some gloves in Dragon’s skin, I guess it’s because I destroyed mine while making an experience.

Which was “can the Whooping Willow destroy my gloves?”.

Yes, it could.

_“If you try to experience anything with these ones, I will tell on you to Wood. Even though I am not sure there is anything more to tell him._

_Neville.”_

Wood’s gift is, of course, a book about quidditch. I guess no one is perfect.

“Did you like my gift?” I ask John.

“You know what… You were right about Jeanette, I might have overreacted and…”

“You know, Dad. If she hadn’t broken up with you, you wouldn’t apologize. So don’t.”

“At least you call me Dad again,” he says after a few seconds.

“Don’t get used to it”, I smile, carrying my kitten who is the greatest being in the world and whom I love more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I use pigheaded right?? Do you guys know synonyms for "smile" other than smirk?? Trying to be creative...


	10. Chapter 9 or The Americans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what is worst than Sherlock? What is worst than my dad's girlfriend? Sherlock's girlfriend and everything that goes with her. I just want to go back to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour!
> 
> A little bit earlier than the previous times, hope you enjoy it! I finished the Big bang theory this week and I cried my eyes out! But now I am being the potato couch that i deserve to be and hope that the next few weeks will be nicer to me school-wise  
> spoiler : they will not

I got my habits back very quicker than expected. In the morning, I get up early enough to see Sherlock and grumble with him. During the day, I spend some time with Mrs. Hudson and each evening I watch TV with my dad. We don’t really watch the screen, we mostly talk about our day. And in between all of these activities, I take care of my kitten.

I hesitated for a couple of days before I found the perfect name. As he is coming with me to Hogwart, I needed to find a name understandable to both Pure Bloods and Muggle Borns and all in-betweens. So his name is Voldy. But Sherlock calls him The Thing so I am afraid he might answer to that name as well.

Today is the 31st of December. I always loved the New Year. I always loved fireworks. I always loved staying up late with my Mom to watch these dumb shows on the BBC for the occasion. Also, the idea to get to restart something always seduced me. Or was shoved down my throat by these stupid American movies, I don’t know.

My dad left, and so did Sherlock a few minutes after him. I sent Mrs. Hudson to get me a very specific type of pastry you can only find in a bakery near the Diagon Alley. Maybe I am trying to set her up with Ollivander. But no one can prove it.

With this idea in mind, I finally get up and go play with Voldy. I love him, he is so sweet and super friendly but he knocked off so many of Sherlock’s bottles, he might kick both of us off. Tonight’s plan is to watch TV and eat something nice. I believe that my dad has too many adventures in the day, to be able to spice up his evenings. I guess I just gotta work with it. Or call Mycroft and beg him to come to see what happens.

Someone knocks at the door. Last time I opened the door when I was by myself I learned about magic. Maybe this time I will be told I can fly.

On this thought, I run downstairs and open the door to three men in full tuxedo looking pretty mad.

“Hello. Did Mycroft send you?”

The one in the middle, the boss I suppose, steps forward and slaps me so hard I fall on my butt. Not given the time to process what is happening, tears are filling up my eyes. I try to stand up, hoping to lock myself up in Mrs. Hudson’s apartment, but the man grabs my hair and drags me up the stairs.

“Le… Wh.. Idiots!! Let! Me !! Go !!”

I am also trying not to completely sob, at this point, I don’t know if it is because it hurts, because I am angry or because I am scared. There is also the possibility of all three.

We finally arrived in 221B, I can glimpse my kitten running under the couch.

One of the men takes a chair and put it in the middle of the living room. The one grabbing my hair drop me in it. I look away and grumble.

“A twelve years girl by yourselves. You guys are so brave.”

He slaps me again, the other cheek. I sniffle loudly.

“Listen to me carefully. I am only going to ask once” says the man, squatting to my level. “Where is Irene Adler’s phone?”

In Hagrid’s ass, you bloody idiot. Also, Mycroft did not send them, if the whole "kidnapping kid" part of it was not obvious enough, they have an American accent, and I think Mycroft would rather put his umbrella into his own heart than hire Americans.

“I don’t know” I whispers, trying to wipe away my tears on my shirt. “I don’t know her I…”

“Maybe I can ask twice..” he says softly, but at the same time, I can see the other two men threatening nearing their hands to their pockets.

He uses the same tone Snape uses when he sees Neville’s potion. It is soft but not sweet, it is dangerous. I try to swallow the growing sob in my throat.

“Where is Adler’s phone?”

“I don’t know.. I don’t know… please…”

I can also see the so-called “Gryffondor’s braveness” running away through the door. I am trying not to cry but my voice is shaking and I just want my dad and Sherlock to come home.

“We are going to wait for Mr. Holmes together” he proposes, putting a gun near my head.

I nod quickly, sniffling again and again. I can see Voldy rolling himself up under the couch and I could almost smile but I am afraid of what’s going to happen to me if Sherlock and Dad don’t come home.

But I hear steps coming up. And I think I recognize the steps.

Sherlock’s look is cold, heinous, and dangerous.

“Sherlock…”

“Don’t snivel, Elizabeth. It will do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet. What a tender world that would be.

He gets closer to me and brushes softly my cheek with his hand. When his fingers leave my face, I can see some blood. Sherlock's confidence seems to be deserved, after clever reverse psychology, two of the men leave the room and the other one, the Boss, goes check if clever got a gun. Sherlock gives him a headbutt also as good as the one Fiona gave in Shrek 2. 

I rise up, my legs are shaking, almost not supporting me, I look at the man laying on the ground. Sherlock is looking down at me. I take a deep breath and rush into his arms. At first, he slowly pets my head but lets his arm around my back.

“Now now” he says mechanically. “John is on his way.”

The reminder of my Dad seems to give me some sort of courage, I nod, wiping away my snot with my sleeve. Sherlock grabs the man as if he weighed nothing. He put him in the chair where I was before and scotch his mouth. Sherlock grabs the gun.

I put my face in my hands, hoping that if I bury myself in my hands deep enough, I will disappear.

“Elizabeth!” calls my Dad, worry in his voice.

He comes in and looks at the man, Sherlock, then me. His mouth opened.

“El… Sweetheart”

“I am okay” I lie.

He comes close, I can see his arms opening for a hug. I know that I will break into sobs if I accept. I don’t want to cry in front of the man. So I escape sneakily, going around the table and goes downstairs.

“Let’s clean these cuts”, says my Dad behind me.

“Sure.”

We go to Mrs. Hudson’s apartment. My Dad finds the care kit easily and fixes my face up with dexterity.

“Maybe you were right. Maybe you should have stayed at school.”

“I am always right. But I like being here.” I answer, looking away.

He smiles a little, and finally takes me in his arms. I don’t move, I don’t say anything, but after a few seconds, I burst into tears. My dad tightens his grip, whispering reassuring things in my ears. I am stopped by a big noise and a black form that fell from upstairs. The man who hit me just fell into the dumpsters.

“What did Sherlock do?”

“We don’t want to know.”

“I want to know”, I say, frowning my brows and opening the door to face Sherlock who grabbed the main again, dragging him up the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“Bored”.

He shrugs his shoulders.

Yeah, right. The man is pissed. I am not going to argue. My Dad puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I am going to make you a cup of tea.”

A cup of tea sounds amazing right now. I go back in and watch my Dad as he prepares a full pot. He sits in front of me, and we both drink our tea in silence. Comforting silence. After a while, the Yard arrives. Greg asks my Dad if I am ok and then takes the man away. Later on, it’s Mrs. Hudson who comes back, not fallen in love with Ollivanders.

I go to bed super early. Hoping that the New Year washes my troubles away.

ooOOOoo

The next day, I go to the kitchen my stomach screaming its hanger. I got woken up by voices, my Dad’s, Sherlock’s, and another one. When I step in I realize I was right. I don’t know the woman.

She looks at me, with a subtle smile, and raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“Are you the daughter of Dr. Watson?”

I hate that she knows me. I hate that I just put the first clothes I saw on. I hate that even though she is sitting down, she is looking up at me.

“I don’t know” I answer. “It seems like this is some sort of hospice for homelessness.”

My Dad doesn’t try to yell at me for once but does give an apologetic smile to the woman.

“Elizabeth, I have to explain some things to you.”

I let him take me back into my room and whisper to me as if it were a secret.

“The woman is Irene Adler.”

“She was dead. Sherlock made a scene.”

“She is not dead anymore.”

“Nice. How did she do that?”

My dad doesn’t laugh. He is too serious for his own good.

“Is she staying here? For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

I feel like that’s worst. This is too much for me to handle.

“Ok.”

I kiss his cheek and smile at him. When I see his surprised look, I shrug my shoulders.

“I think I am going to spend the rest of the Christmas break somewhere else. We will see each other soon enough.”

I start filling up my trunk, which was not that empty, to begin with. I also put Voldy’s stuff with my own.

“I beg your pardon? You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can! I am sick of this break! First, you let me all by myself at the station. Then you bring your girlfriend! Then the Americans and now this?! I am tired, Dad!”

“Where are you going to go?” he asks, like that would stop me.

“At Mycroft's. Or Greg’s. Or Neville’s. Or Hermione’s. It does not matter!”

Actually, I already planned to go to Mycroft’s. I got his address one year ago when I asked “just in case”. I like how smart I am. I close my trunk, put my backpack on, take Voldy’s transport basket and look at my dad.

“She can take my room now.”

“Elizabeth! No!”

“If you refuse, I will ask my school to not let me go home for the break. I will ask to stay at the castle” I threatened, completely calm.

And it works. My attitude and my very decided look seem to convince him. He just looks at me, his jaws and fists closed. Sherlock does not notice everything that is going on. He is looking at Adler as if she had the answers to the mysteries of the world. I guess that is love.

I take a deep breath and carry my trunk down the stairs. I do give proper goodbyes to Mrs. Hudson, avoiding a hug that could quickly transform into kidnapping.

I call a cab, counting down my pounds, feeling my Dad’s stare in my neck. I don’t look up when I get in the car and decide to call Mycroft.

“Hello?”

“Is this a bad time?”

He does not answer. But I guess it always is.

I explain the situation to him. Maybe the Irene Adler part was still secret. I don’t care. I ask gently and admit that I can stay somewhere else if he wants me to. After a few minutes of explanation, he accepts.

When the cab arrives, I pay the driver and leaves Mycroft his Christmas gift on the sofa. He has a butler. The butler takes me to a room that has already been prepared. The butler also makes me promise that I will not let the cat wander around. Just in the bedroom.

I promise.

When the butler leaves, I lay in the gigantic bed, feeling sad, empty, and ready to cry all of my tears. I decide to let it go, to sob on and on before Mycroft comes back. I hoped for better, that just it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys like it? Must admit that this is not my favorite one ugh...


	11. Chapter 10 or The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am finally BACK ! BACK TO HOGWART! (this could be a catchy song, don't you think?) To be honest, my return is not that adventurous to begin with... Ah right, Lucius Malfoy and Mycroft know each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONJOUR !
> 
> Well let me tell you that I am EXCITED to know that this week is almost OVER! I have spent too much time in front of my computer and it's started to get creepy between him and me. But don't tell him.  
> Online classes are slowly killing me but !! yay!!! Besides that I started crocheting ! And it helps me to follow online classes, keeping my hands busy and stuff! So, if you find yourself drifting off during online classes, i propose knitting and/or crochet! works great for me!

The rest of the Christmas break was surprisingly nice. When he was in a good mood, Mycroft accepted to discuss with me about politics, he taught me to play chess. In exchange, I made sure not to be under his feet too much. But I honestly had to refrain myself from asking to do stuff with him. Thankfully I had Voldy to help me kill time.

And Mycroft has the biggest library I had ever seen. I felt like Belle, minus the love story, the singing and... Well, the three things I have in common with Belle is brown hair, a big library and a Beast. 

Sometimes Mycroft reminds me of Percy Weasley or maybe the other way around. Percy loves his siblings, even though he shows his love in a weird way. They also don’t understand each other. Sometimes I believe that Sherlock and Mycroft have a lot of past issues, but they also refuse to move past it.

Don't quote me on that, I am no therapist. 

Mycroft also agreed to take me back to King’s Cross, although I am pretty sure my Dad will be waiting for me. He better be. I am not leaving his house dramatically so that he does not follow me everywhere seeking my forgiveness. 

We arrive at the Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Mycroft gracefully accepted to take me to the station, but he is no saint, so I am carrying my truck on my own. Arriving on the platform, I spot Neville right away and I start to join him but a man stops me, putting himself in front of me.

“El.”

I grumble but raise my chin up, facing my Dad and smile stupidly.

“Hello.”

“How could you accept?” he reproaches Mycroft. “How could you let her stay?”

You can also talk to me but I get that he is mad. 

Mycroft does not have the time to answer. Blondie and another hair model arrive. I suppose it’s Blondie’s father. He looks like a Malfoy; blond hair, super straight, light blue eyes and a very arrogant attitude. They don’t make Pure Blood like this anymore.

He also looks super mad and I am very excited to discover why.

“Elizabeth Watson?” he asks coldly.

My father completely forgets that he is angry at me and puts his hand on my shoulder. Mycroft raises his eyebrow and I notice Neville and Hermione squint their eyes in our direction. I love that I am already part of the big drama. 

“Is there a problem, Lucius?” asks Mycroft. 

Lucius? Why did he call him Lucius?

“Mycroft, I am surprised to see you here”, smiles hypocritically Malfoy Senior. “Draco, my son, told me you picked Elizabeth up from the station. I didn’t know you had a daughter.” 

“He is not.” says my father in a grumble. “I am.”

I think Malfoy Senior knows that. I doubt Blondie talks about me saying "Elizabeth", he should be saying "Watson". But I also guess that Malfoy is intrigued to see why Mycroft Holmes is with me.

“I don’t have the pleasure to know, Sir.” Smiles Lucius Malfoy. “I am Lucius Malfoy.”

“Doctor John Watson.”

“Doctor, mmh?”

And I know that he is judging my father for being Muggle and a Muggle doctor.

“Maybe, dear Doctor, it is time to educate your daughter.”

Oh. Poor Blondie complained to his Daddy and now Daddy is fixing up his problems. I clench my jaws and step forward.

“So Draco is not able to check his problems on his own, now?” I ask.

Draco looks furious and contracts his fists.

“You mu…”

His father stops him midsentence, just with his hand, his face expressing all the disdain in the world. It’s amusing to see how Draco obeys to his Daddy. Mycroft still has a very neutral expression but finally lets a fake smile on his lips.

“Lucius, may I ask what this is about? I am afraid I am not following.”

“You know him?” asks my Dad.

“We work together.”

They… what now?? I want to say something but Lucius talks before I can open my mouth, having the same smile as Mycroft.

“I just want to make sure that your little protégé is behaving properly. One would not want to see her get hurt one way or another” smirks Malfoy.

“Is that a threat?” growls my Dad.

He is going to throat-punch him. I can feel it.

“Lucius is not threatening anyone,” says Mycroft softly. “Just stating facts. We do want that Elizabeth behaves properly.”

“I am glad we agree” smiles Lucius.

“But, it is a shame that your son feels threatened so easily when confronted with smarter than him.”

Whose face is better between Lucius, Drago and my Dad? I would not know. But the fact that Mycroft looks scared for a millisecond that my Dad is going to kiss him is meme worthy. 

“What are you insinuating, Mycroft?” hisses Lucius.

“I am afraid I was not insinuating anything. I was stating the fact that Miss Watson is smarter than your son.”

My Dad is going to kiss him. Mycroft seems to remark his loving eyes and decides that he does not want to risk it.

“Lucius, Dr. Watson, I am afraid I have other obligations”, he says politely before looking down at me. “Elizabeth, be studious.”

He leaves probably hoping he had a dramatic exit with his umbrella on his forearm. My Dad gives a last death stare to the Malfoys and takes me away from them. Malfoy seems to hesitate between following us or kick Mycroft in the legs but decides to do neither and goes back to his (supposed) wife.

My Dad puts his hands on my shoulders and looks at me for several minutes, as if he was trying to memorize my face, and then takes me in his arms.

“I am sorry for this break. I promise I will do better", he whispers in my ears.

"I recognize that I am also responsible for some of it"

“I love you.”

I say nothing but I hear something behind me.

“El!”

I turn around and see Neville getting closer.

“What did Malfoy want?” he asks before blushing red and turning to my father. “Hi, sir. I am Neville Longbottom.”

“I am Doctor Watson” salutes my Dad, as if he could not believe I was telling the truth about having friends.

“I will tell you later”, I smile to Neville.

“Well, goodbye?” says my Dad, unsure.

“Goodbye.”

We hug again. I guess I owe him that.

On our way to the Station, Hermione joins us and as I am explaining what happened and what was said with the Malfoys, my Dad and Mycroft. In the train, Oliver passes by and thanks me for my gift. I pretend I am chill. He is polite enough to pretend to believe it. Hermione tells us about her Christmas break.

I could almost thank Drago for making my Dad forgets that he was mad at me. I am so close to regretting spending the rest of the holidays at Mycroft’s. But I don’t, and buy lots of chocolate frogs to Neville, Hermione and I. Neville finally talks about his break, he spent it with his extended family and it went well.

It feels good to be back. I am just sitting here, stuffing my face with magic candies and feeling like a slug.

But a happy one.

As soon as we arrived, I run to the Great Hall, trying to find Harry and the Weasleys.

“My idiots!” I say, smiling with my teeth.

“Your muffins were amazing!” smiles Ron.

“Thank you, Ronald!”

Harry asks Hermione and me to come closer for dinner, as he got some tea to spill. Well, he didn’t phrase it like that but he meant it that way.

He tells us about his invisibility cloak, about the discussion between Snape and Quirrell, and the Mirror of the Erised. I frown my eyebrows.

My biggest desire?

I zone out. Trying to figure out what I want most. But it is not as difficult as I want it to be.

My Father and Mother together, happy, in love. Sherlock still in the picture somehow.

I almost share it with the group but remember that no one knows that my Mum is dead, beside Neville. I don’t feel guilty about it, well, not too much at least. It seems that Neville and I both decided to let Harry handles the pity looks. Maybe it’s selfish of us.

“What about your gifts?” asks Harry.

I show him the inside of my backpack (I left it somewhat open, I am not an idiot), in which Voldy is asleep.

“What’s his name?” asks Harry.

I smile, maliciously.

“You are not ready yet.”

I don’t hear his protestations, I spot Wood and some sort of blonde girl laughing together. I take a deep breath and take some French fries from Ronald’s plate.

“What are you doing?”

“It seems pretty obvious, but I will explain it slowly. I am stealing some French fries.”

Ronald seems even more confused than before.

“They were mine!”

“This is a magic buffet, Ronald! Just take some more!”

“So can you!”

“Cut it”, orders Hermione.

We stop squabbling but Ronald is still giving me an angry eye look. I don’t mind though.

“So…”, starts one of the Weasley twins.

“Did you miss Wood?”

I close my eyes, trying to figure out whether I am going to yell or cry. But I decided to do something else, I slowly put down my fork and articulate unemotionally. 

“I love spending time with you, Fred, George. But I am warning you. My Dad and his roommate were annoying enough with Wood, so if you exasperate me again, I will show you how the Muggles fight.”

“What about your Mum?” asks Ronald between two chicken wings.

“Business trip” I answer after a silence that might have been too long to be a believable lie. “We facetimed though.”

“You what?” says suddenly Neville.

I try to explain the concept of facetiming to Neville but it is tedious. Moreover, the Weasley twins decided that they might drop the “Wood teasing” if I explain to them facetiming as well.

Once supper is over, I go back to the common room while discussing with Dean Thomas. The boy is super enthusiast about comic books (VERIFIER si credible) and it is absolutely delightful to see Neville tyring to figure out if “Tony Stark” is an actual Muggle or not.

Next plan is to present Shrek as “man who looks like an Ogre” and sees how long he will struggle with the fact that his best friend is a donkey. But since we both know Hagrid and his weird friendships, a donkey is not completely freaky.

When I lay down in my bed, I see Lavander braiding Hermione’s hair, as we all discuss our Christmas break and Voldy is trying to steal some of Parvati candies. When I close my eyes the feeling of peace and happiness that come from this place.

I love this old wifi-free castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! This one was hard to finish! I really didn't like my original (French) version so I changed lots of things, forgive me if the English is not the best!


	12. Chapter 11 or Gandalf Discount

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay Gandalf, stop playing mysterious and stuff, I know your game and I'm gonna show you. Oh, and Wood got a girlfriend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir bonsoir!
> 
> You guys I just had a great week! I am so happy, so rest and I got the greatest coat EVER! The closer I look to a British detective the better I feel about myself! I just wanna go back to London so bad, it is my happy city and I miss it so much.  
> I went on a walk with my dog, listening to Hozier and pretending to be someone I am not. I almost forgot that I have a shit ton of work to hand in :))

I took my decision. Enough is enough and I am tired of it. February just started and still haven’t discussed with Dumbledore. Don’t get me wrong, I love Potter and whatever is going on with him, but he is only second on my “Oh-Merlin-They-Are-Famous-And-At-Hogwart” list.

To top that, classes are super boring. I mean, beside transfiguration and potions. Neville is making herbology bearable, gotta give him that. He explains to me everything a second time, makes sure that I am doing my best each class. Sometimes I want to kill him but I am mostly fan of Professor Longbottom.

Today is Saturday, I spent the morning writing my letters and sent them, even saying to Hagrid on the way. I am truly the Queen of sociability or whatever. But now I am waiting. Sitting on the ground, my eyes starring at the door of Dumbledore’s office. Logically, he is going to go in or out at some point.

The older students look at me with disdain. You think I care? I am looked at with disdain in my own home. I will survive. But I feel my confidence shrinking on itself when I see Snape arriving.

“Waiting for something, Watson?” he asks, no curiosity,f pure??

“Aren’t we all?” I sigh.

“Ten points from Gryffindor” he simply says.

Okay then. Go pout somewhere else.

I sigh again and cross my arms. It is not like I am doing something forbidden. I am just waiting. Percy Weasley tries to force me to go to the library but I lie to his face, pretending all my work is already done, and the man can only fight so many fights. Minerva just raises higher than I thought possible one of her eyebrow. Later on, the Weasley twins pass by, a smirk on their faces.

“What are you doing, Watson?”

“Waiting for Dumbledore?”

“I am going to leave your guys to your suppositions, I guess” I smile.

“What for?”

“That’s a secret.”

They seem interested but apparently Wood threatened them with un-nameable things if they didn’t arrive on time at training.

After ten more minutes, he finally arrived. Gandalf discount is wearing a beautiful dark green robe, his eternal gentle smile on his lips. I hate how much I want to trust him even though Mycroft told me not to do it.

I rise up and stand in front of him.

“Hi. I am Elizabeth Watson, Professor, first-year Gryffindor. I would like to talk to you.”

He doesn’t seem surprised nor annoyed, he keeps his smile on.

“Of course, Miss Watson. I am all ears.”

Uhoh.

Is he really? Honestly, I thought the smiling old man act was just an act but he seems genuinely interested. What do I ask now?

“Well I-.. Mmh. I was told that ..”

That I should not trust you.

“That you were not as trustful as you seem.”

Oh !! Maybe that’s WHY this stupid hat put me in Gryffindor, my begging aside.

“Mycroft has always been very suspicious” he smiles gently.

“Always?” I ask, wanting for more.

How much does he know Mycroft? Are there any juicy gossips he wants to share with me?

No no.

Keep your head in the game, El.

_U gotta_

_Get'cha get'cha head in the game_

_We gotta_

_Get our, get our, get our, get our head in the game_

_U gotta_

_Get'cha get'cha head in the game_

My brain needs to shut it.

“Mmh. I just wanted to know why the greatest British Wizard, and probably European, refused several times the Minister of Magic post.” I say quickly before adding. “I mean, if you like power and stuff, being Headmaster means that you are at the roots of the next magic population and it’s pretty neat. But you don’t seem to be like that.”

I squint my eyes.

“So .. I thought and thought about it. And I am pretty sure you love teaching things and you love this school. No questions asked, but it seems so weird that your ambition doesn’t push you to do something else. But then, I had a talk with Hagrid..”

I see Dumbledore’s smile growing just a bit.

“He told me you didn’t think that Voldemort was dead. So I guess that is somehow the reason. That, and Harry Potter. But… These are just guesses. There might be an even bigger, more dangerous and worst monster than Voldemort.”

He rose one of his eyebrows, showing some sort of surprise. I wonder if he is going to answer me, even just a mysterious sentence leaving me hanging.

“Few people your age are brave enough to call him Voldemort,” he notices.

“It’s my cat’s name, would be problematic if I didn’t.”

“Follow me, Miss,” he says, going into his office.

The password is something about a wizard/witches candy. The office is spectacular, it is a circular room with many windows and so many portraits. I recognized one of them as a former Headmaster so I suppose they all are former Headmasters/Headmistresses. I see the stupid hat on top of a bookshelf. There are many silver instruments everywhere, and so so so many books. Then, on the side, there is a freaking phoenix. I cannot stop myself and just whisper;

“Wow.”

“Thank you, Miss Watson” he smiles, amused. “Why doesn’t Mycroft ask me all these questions?”

He goes sit in his seat and shows me the one in front of his study. I sit and smile

“Mycroft probably knows already. He didn’t ask me to do that.”

“His brother, then, I suppose.”

I say nothing, keeping my smile on and so does he. The atmosphere is not cold but it certainly isn’t warm. Dumbledore put his hands together and look straight into my eyes. I feel like he is reading my mind and I absolutely hate it.

“Miss Watson, I am Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, which is similar to a Muggle Supreme Court. I prefer the idea of being able to oppose decisions which I do not agree with than having the burden of making all of them. As you said, I love this castle. I spent my best years here and I want to make sure this castle is in good hands.”

In his eyes, there is a very amused sparkle.

“I don’t think I am tyrannic in the way I do things, do you?”

I regret what I said, maybe I went too far. The man could disintegrate me if he wanted to. I have an apologetic smile.

“I present my apologies, I went too far, and I was rude.”

“I would rather than you ask me directly your questions than trying to find answers in inappropriate places.”

What does that even mean

Anyways

“I thought you should know that Potter is very… suspicious of Professor Snape. Which is not a big deal per say, but… you know. You’re never too careful.”

I don’t know why I say that. Maybe I shouldn’t tell on Potter. Too late I guess. Dumbledore seems tied suddenly, sighing.

“What about you, Miss Watson? You seem fond of Professor Snape.”

“He is completely unfair, has very clear favourites, lacks any kind of pedagogy. I like him though. I like villains. Well, not to say that he is a villain but..”

He looks amused again. Good.

“I see. Lemon drops?” he proposes with a smile.

What now

“Sure!”

I take one and stand up.

“Thank you, Professor. I am sorry if I doubted your authority or offended you, thank you for your answers and your time.”

Should be a professional crawler ( ** _NA: does this word exist? I was trying to find an English version for “Fayot” or “leche cul_** ”) now that I think of it. I walk straight to the park. It snowed these last few days, I love it. I love nature and the feeling of being alone but not lonely. It’s best for thinking. I look at the frozen lake.

Even though I still being alone, I come to realize that I love the idea of having friends, and I start to believe that I cannot be completely alone, not without the certitude that Neville and Hermione are always here for me.

Wood is officially dating the pretty blonde. My heart aches. I am not stupid. I know we were not going to have a love story worthy of a Disney movie. Or at all for that matter. But it hurts. I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t think there is anything to say but a tiny part of me is persuaded that my Mum would know what to say.

“Human error” would say, Sherlock. He would be right.

I go back to the dormitory, taking Voldy in my arms and petting him until I feel better. It works a little.

Lavender comes in.

“Elizabeth? Neville is looking for you, he is in the common room.”

I can never have a single day for myself. But if someone can interrupt me in my day it’s Neville. Neville has the biggest smile when he sees me.

“You know what?”

“You have a Long bottom.”

I laugh. He rolls his eyes. Well, as long as I make myself laugh it means that I am funny!

“Elizabeth!”

“Ok, tell me.”

“McGonagall used to play Quidditch!”

I am surprised for a second, but now that I think of it, trying to picture a younger Minerva, it kind of works.

“How do you know?”

“Come with me!”

I obey, keeping Voldy against my chest while running down the halls. When we arrived at the medals given to students this century, I see two in particular.

“James Potter”

“Minerva McGonagall” 

I smile. Even though I am passionate about it, I love the idea that Quidditch is a mixed sport, girls and boys playing along.

“Well done, Neville!”

He smiles, pretty proud of himself.

“Longbottom, Watson!”

We turn around, looking at Wood. It stings ugh. I hate myself for it. I hate crushes. I hate it I hate I hate it I hate it.

“Fred and George told me that you went to see Dumbledore. Did everything go ok?”

I feel Neville’s look on me. I swallow the knot in my throat, trying not to blush.

“Everything went perfect. I asked how his relationship with McGonagall was and they are very much in love, thank you very much.” I smile, full of arrogance.

Oliver seems a little lost. I guess he expected I would tell him about my meeting and everything else. Joke on him, I don’t like sharing stuff about me.

Beside my crush, I suppose.

“Hope everything is ok, then” he simply concludes before leaving us.

As he goes away, Neville asks:

“I don’t what was weirder, the fact that you didn’t blush or that you went to see Dumbledore and didn’t tell me.”

“You’re my Mum, now?”

“You haven’t answered me.”

I sigh deeply and put my chin on Voldy.

“Well, I was not going to have a crush on Wood all my life, was I? As for Dumbledore, Sherlock gave me questions to ask him.”

“Did he answer?”

“More or less.”

Neville pretends that everything is fine but it seems pretty dumbfounded by the news that I don’t have a crush anymore. When we go in the common room, he even tells the news to Ron, Harry and Hermione.

As I open my book in front of the fireplace, the Weasley twins sit next to me.

“You can tell Neville anything you want.”

“We know why you don’t have a crush anymore.”

I roll my eyes.

“Do you now?”

“We saw him and his girlfriend.”

I stop breathing and look up to them. They have nothing but a reassuring smile, no mockery.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone.”

“And you’re too fun for him, anyway.”

I look at the one who said that. I try I don’t have the time to mention it that they are already gone.

After I spend the evening reading, I go up the common room and am thankful for the warm shower, my warm bed and my purring cat at my feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! What did you guys think? Do you have an other word for crawler? Like teacher's pet but more one way sided, you see what I mean?   
> Leave a comment, it always makes my day!!


	13. Chapter 12 or Becoming a woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, have you guys seen The Godfather? If you didn't, you must so you can tell arrogantly to people "Oh my God you haven't seen The Godfather!", worth it. But, in the movie (or "film" if you really wanna be an ass about it), a guy wakes up with a horse's head in his bed and so much blood. Well, I just lived that.   
> More or less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour bonjour!
> 
> How is the weather where you live? It's so cold here, I am loving it! As soon as this is posted, Imma go walk my dog and trying to persuade myself that it might actually snow this year. The last white Christmas I had was when I spent a year in Canada and it was great. I want that again! + my dog loves snow, I love snow and I love my dog, so I want it so bad.  
> Also I spent the week binge watching Broadchurch and it was amazing! My English was challenged by Tennant's accent but in the best way possible. I mostly learned English in Canada so I got a North American accent and I understand it way better (shame, I know)

Even though Ronald didn’t believe Neville right away, he must have come to terms with the fact that I didn’t have a crush on Wood anymore, because he stopped teasing me about it. Or maybe I just scare him, whatever. Besides, everyone understood the reason since Wood and his girlfriend are finally “official”. Each time they pass by, Neville smiles to me with so much pity I want to bury myself alive.

I try to pretend that I don’t care, that my heart doesn’t sting every time they hold hands but I am only 12, and I honestly want to cry sometimes. Wood is very sweet and is still trying to stay friends or whatever, but my dramatic self wants to put space between us.

As I lay in bed, already excited about tomorrow’s breakfast, I hear Hermione leaving hers even though we are well past curfew. Lately, Hermione has been hanging with Ron and Harry a lot. She seems to stay with Neville and I just by obligation, which is the worst.

These last few days have been hell. The cherry on top is that my belly hurts so much. I bury my head in my pillow, trying to shut myself up and not wake Lavender and Parvati up.

“Bloody hell…”

I feel something between my legs, I raise up and remove the blanket from my body. Finally, I understand what that director felt in the “The Godfather”, waking up to blood in your bed? It changes a man.

Or a woman, now that I have my period.

I put my hands in between my legs, trying to stop this mess from going further down, go straight to the bathroom to put some toilet paper down there. This will do for now. I look at myself in the mirror, wearing proper pyjamas for once (Thank you, Ms Hudson, for them). It does look obvious that I was in bed and not ready to see anyone else but my cat. Each strand of my hair is trying to live its own life but whatever.

I go down the stairs, leaving the common room and trying to be as discreet as possible as I go to see McGonagall. It is not the time to see the twins nor Filch. When I finally get in the right hall, I see worst than Fred and George, than Filch.

Even worst than Snape.

“Malfoy?!”

Fair enough, it was not my best idea to scream at him like that. But I just got my first period, it’s 11 pm. Let a girl breathes.

“What happened?” he asks, too shocked to have some sort of nasty comment on hand.

“We all got our stuff to get through I suppose,” I say coldly, ready to take out my wand even though I can mostly use it to stick it up his nostril.

Malfoy’s eyes and smile grow bigger as he understands.

“oh!”

I stick him to the wall, pretty surprised by how lightweight he is, putting my wand to his chin while trying to figure out what I am going to do next. A wingardium leviosa? I didn’t think this through.

“If you mention it to… anyone…” I say between my teeth.

“What will you do?” he mocks. “I just saw your little friends and this stupid Hagrid I must say this is a great evening.”

What did he see? What did the stupid Golden Trio do again?

“What will I do?” I repeat.

What will I do?

“You cannot hit me, even though I know that girls going through … _that_ are moody and annoying. You will just get detention.”

“You’re right I suppose” I smile. “But you know what? You are a pretty bad liar, Malfoy.”

He flushes.

“What?”

“I saw you last week, trying to persuade Flitwick you had just forgotten your homework in the dormitory. Pathetic.”

“So what?”

“If you tell anyone what you saw tonight, I will tell everyone we were supposed to meet past curfew because we are dating.”

He blushes completely. Bright on red.

“N-No one will believe you!”

“I lie better than you do.”

“I won’t be lying, I will be the one saying the truth.”

“Will you?”

I feel like I am James Bond, using my power of seduction to get what I want when I want. On these wise words, I put my lips on his and smack it for a millisecond before stepping forward with a disgusted face.

For a whole minute, Draco is too dumbfounded to say anything but he finally looks up at me.

“Ew! You.. !!”

Before he can insult me or whatever I smile.

“First periods, first kiss, I am becoming a woman in front of your eyes!”

Minerva’s office’s door opens on the fly and Minerva looks at us. I can see it in her eyes. She knows. She heard.

“What are you doing here?!”

I look down and she follows my eyes.

“Oh.. I see.”

She has a very compassionate et gentle smile.

“Go to the infirmary, Miss Watson.”

I nod, say goodnight to the both of them and go to the infirmary without any more drama. I feel pretty proud of my plan, feel like I handle everything the right way.

As I go in the infirmary, Pomfrey comes out of her office and ties up her robe, frowning her eyebrows.

“Yes?”

“Ma’am, I just got my first period.”

I don’t cross her eyes. She puts her hand on my should and takes me to her office, starting to make a tea for both of us.

“I feel sorry for your mother, it’s the kind of experience she would want to share with you” she sighs.

I shrug my shoulders.

“Well.. she’s dead so… but I think my Dad will be pretty happy he doesn’t have to go through all of this.”

She apologizes right away and once the tea is ready, she gives me a cup. She then starts to explain to me how to use pads and all that kind of things. What are the magic alternatives, which are scary. They can fly but they still haven’t made up something to stop this kind of idiocy.

After half an hour, she gives me clean pants, a pass for Filch, and let me go. Thankfully, I see no one and no one sees me. I got enough adventures for a nigh.

“Would have rather kiss Ronald” I mumble to myself coming in the common room.

“Pardon?”

“Seriously? You must be following me” I say to Wood who is looking at me.

He has his arm across the shoulders of his girlfriend. They are starring at me as if I said I was a follower of Voldemort. Have you not me a 12 years old before? Leave me alone.

“What did you say?” he asks again.

“Would have rather kiss Ronald Weasley than staying up this late to talk with Minerva.

“What did you talk about?”

“I am sorry but I think that’s between her and me. She might or might not have made clear that she was kind of disappointed by the strategy of the Gryffindor’s quidditch team.”

Honestly, they are all too gullible. Wood’s face changes and he becomes pale. He almost stands up but seems to contain himself. His voice is shaky when he asks.

“Really?”

“Yeah. But don’t ask me about it. I don’t understand anything about quidditch.”

I smile at them.

“Well, goodnight and don’t be too naughty!”

ooOOOOoo

The next day, the first thing I do after breakfast is to write a letter to my Dad.

“ _Dad,_

_I hope everyone is doing just fine._

_I just had the most surprising night which, I can promise you, will have some consequences on the grocery list and our cohabitation._

_Guess what?_

_I became a woman!_

_More or less anyways. I had my first period. Don’t worry, the nurse told me about everything, except something called tampons? She told me I should ask you instead because it’s the kind of private discussion better to have with your parents._

_See you soon,_

_Elizabeth._ ”

I hope he actually starts to mentally prepare himself to have this discussion with me. Once I attach the letter to Frodo, he doesn’t wait for a second to take off. I stay in the park, looking at him as he becomes a black spot in the sky.

I then proceed to hide in the library for the rest of the day. Don’t tell Malfoy but I actually am pretty moody and cranky today, I guess the way my belly hurts is for something.

When it’s time to eat and the idea of talking to other people don’t make me angry anymore, I go into the Great Hall. As soon as I go in, I see Malfoy looking at me and my anger and pain just vanish. I smile at him and even wink at him. He blushes and looks away.

When I look at my own table, I can only see shock and treason in their eyes. I sit next to Neville who is polite enough to not ask questions about it. But Ronald cannot stop himself.

“What did you just do?”

“I said hi.”

“To Malfoy?”

“I suppose so, yeah.”

“Traitor!” says Fred or George.

I smile at both of them.

“What now? You guys are jealous?”

“No, but… Malfoy?” says Neville, shocked to his core.

“C’mon. He is our age. His Dad knows my uncle. He knows the Weasley’s Dad as well. See how much we got in common? It just takes a step forward to become friends!”

“W-What…”

Fred and George decide to have their own little discussion, rather than listen to what I have to say.

I understand.

But Harry straight out spits out his pumpkin juice.

Pumpkin juice! This thing is amazing! Tasteful at every time of the day! Delicious, fresh and refreshing! And nowhere to be found in muggle grocery store! I must order some from the castle’s kitchen to take home. How am I supposed to survive this summer huh?

“Friends?” repeats Harry.

“Good boy, Harry. You understand English. Yes, friends.”

“Do you speak English? Do you know what friends mean? Are you actually talking about Draco Malfoy?”

“You’re just emotional. Most 11 years old boys are, don’t worry.”

I see that Wood wants to intervene but Hermione is quicker than him.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes, Her- _mignonne_?”

She frowns.

“What?”

“ _Mignonne_ means cute in French.”

As she blushes red, Neville seems even more confused than before.

“You speak French?”

“Some words, my Mum w… is from Morocco. They’re taught French at school.”

“Anyways. Malfoy is staring at you.”

“Of course he is! We are friends!”

This rat better not have told anyone about our meeting last night. I turn to look at him, keeping my smile on. I wave at him.

“Looks cute today, doesn’t he?”

Ron coughs so hard I am afraid that’s the end for him. Neville seems to be missing some air to breathe. Harry looks at me as he was seeing through me.

“What is going on with you?” finally asks Wood.

“Did you all lose your humour? Can’t we laugh a little? Can’t we make friends outside the scope of our own house?” I ask. “Wood, shouldn’t you hang with people your own age? I am sure I am one of the most interesting people around, but c’mon.”

Wood looks at me for a few seconds, close his mouth, stands up and leaves. Good thing is done.

“Elizabeth! Why are you doing all of … this?”

“She wants to make Wood jealous!” finally says, Hermione.

I raise an eyebrow, with as much disdain as humanly possible.

“Yeah right.”

“You do! You want to make Oliver jealous!” repeats Ronald.

Harry and Ronald look at each other with the biggest grin and run towards Oliver Wood together. I clench my fists.

“You all are idiots. It’s not that!”

They already left. Might as well talk to a wall. As they come back, I roll my eyes.

“You didn’t understand it.”

“Whatever, we already told him.” Smiles Ronald.

“I hate you.”

“You don’t” smiles Harry.

I try to stop myself from smiling but I honestly cannot.

I don’t hate them, that might be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it! I love this chapter so much! I had to change some details because I am always super scared that Elizabeth is a Mary Sue (although I read many interesting stuff on the issue of misogyny in the "Marye Sue" character), but she is not a reliable narrator I don't know why I feel compelled to explain ... Well, I just watched Euphoria and I wonder: is Rue a reliable narrator? Don't think so.


	14. Chapter 13 or The Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Trio is being stupid as usual. I am being kind of jealous, they're always the ones who get to do the cool stuff. I suppose fighting my best friend is not so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour bonjour! I hope you are all doing okay! I am doing meh
> 
> Let me explain, it's finale season. In Belgium, finale season works that way: we get two (or three depending on the university) weeks off right before exams (which starts in January). These weeks off start today for me (and they're called "blocus"), so I am feeling kinda meh about finale season starting again!  
> Also, this year has been very trying, very hard, and I see lots of my friends struggling. I do struggle myself, I try to separate my self esteem from "productivity" and whatnot but it is difficult. 
> 
> I do not have any advice to give you right now, but I do hope you all are proud of yourselves and you are gentle with yourselves. I do not need to know you individually to be proud. Despite your struggles, despite the difficulties, despite everything, you are here, you are doing your best. And no matter what your best is, it is enough. I am so so proud of you. Please, be proud of yourselves too.

It's almost the end of the year. I am soon going back home. I am very excited to go back to Baker Street, to be everyone's favourite and stuff. Yet, I know I am going to miss having people my age to hang out. Before Hogwart, the only friend I had was a nice girl but she was so shy I would have never been comfortable enough to invite her over. Also...

"Mrf" says Hermione nearby. 

Hermione is turning and turning in her bed. I wish she would stop, a girl is trying to sleep. She moves again. I grumble and open an eye, seeing her living the dormitory as discreetly as possible. She is a pain. Now that she is hanging with Potter and Weasley, she is becoming more and more reckless. I wait a little but follow her soon enough.

In the common room, Potter and Weasley are sitting on the couch. I am glad I took my wand. They all seem ready to do something, they are even fully clothed.

“So… What is the next adventure the golden trio is going to embark on?” I ask with a mischievous smile.

Snape influenced me so much. It’s scary.

“Wh… what are you doing here?” asks Harry.

“You guys are going to do something stupid, then you are all going to complain about how much Snape is unfair and mean to you. You are pretty arrogant, and I am the one saying that. Eleven years old and ready to get the philosopher's stone?” 

“.. H-How did you know?” says Hermione, looking confused.

I roll my eyes.

“Come on. I live with a detective, you think you could play me? You could at least take Nicolas Flamel’s biography off your nightstand. Challenge me a little. Anyways, you are doing something stupid.”

Hermione is flushing red. Ron is red as well, but more in an angry kind of way. Harry is trying to avoid my eyes. I don't know if I either want to stop them or go with them. It's confused in my head.

Someone comes down the stairs and soon enough, Neville is part of the group, in his pyjamas as well.

“Beautiful, Longbottom, as always” I smile.

“Thank you.” he smiles before look at the trio. "She is right! Gryffindor lost enough points already!” 

“I must say I am also guilty. Voldy has been very difficult lately.”

“I can’t believe you gave that name to your cat" sighs Harry.

“It suits him beautifully, thank you very much.”

“Really not the subject right now,” says Hermione.

She steps forward, trying to convince Neville and me. 

“Elizabeth, Snape is going to steal the philosopher's stone, you must let us go.”

Are they that stupid? For real? I hesitate for some time then I nod slowly.

“Fine. Go ahead. But on one condition.”

Ronald and Harry frown their eyebrows.

“Let’s bet something. I bet that Snape is not going to steal anything and the least thing of all the philosopher's stone. If I am right, Hermione you must come over during the summer.

“You know you could just invite me…”- starts Hermione.

“And if we are right?” asks Ronald.

“I will make your homework and Harry’s next year” I smile.

They look at each other, pretty excited about the idea of not having to do homework. I am excited as well. First of all, I am sure Snape is not going to steal anything. Second of all, I didn’t say I would do it right.

“It’s a deal” smiles Ron.

“Not for me!” says Neville. “El’, we cannot let them go!”

I love being in the centre of everything. But this is too much.

“Neville, you don’t have to be jealous. I will invite you to come over too.”

Though the meeting between Sherlock and Neville is already starting me to stress me. 

“You don’t get it! They are making Gryffindor lose points!”

I can see that he is trying to think of something to do to stop them. I sigh. Sometimes I feel so very old, like twenty years old or something.

“I will take care of him, go.”

They look at us but then leave. Neville tries to follow them but I put myself in front of him, putting my hands on his shoulders.

“I am so sorry, Neville, but we must let them go.”

“No! I am going to get them!”

He pushes me and tries to follow them. For a second, I consider letting him follow them but I take out my wand.

_“Petrificus totalus!”_

He falls on the ground, petrified as one could expect.

“I am so good, it’s just breathtaking. Should ask to skip second year honestly. I am so sorry, Neville, you are my best friend but you are an idiot sometimes.”

I put a pillow under his head, kiss his forehead and go back to my dormitory. As I walk onto the first step, someone comes down.

You guessed it.

“Wood?”

Neville is still hidden by the sofa, and I am afraid of the questions I will get if Wood notices him. Worst, the questions Minerva will ask me if he tells on me.

“You ok?”

He is not ok. He looks pretty upset and if I didn’t know better, I could believe he was crying.

“I don’t talk with twelve years old” he grumbles.

“I deserved that,” I say softly. “But it is not as idiotic as a twelve years old having a crush on fifth year.” 

He laughs a little. I pretend I don’t know I am flushing.

“You may be right.”

“So… What’s going on?”

“It’s over with Susan.”

I suppose Blondie’s name is Susan. Shouldn’t have known that. I don’t smile but I do scrub his shoulder.

“Well, you’re kind of busy anyway, aren’t you? You had the OWL. You also have quidditch and stuff, you’re a busy man!”

“You’re busy too, I heard” he smiles. “Malfoy, mmh?”

“I just find him cute.”

Ew. Never in my life will I kiss again someone who style his hair like Don Corleone at eleven years old? I also think I would rather like if his dad was just an Italian mafioso than a full KKK member (but make it magic). 

“We should go to bed. It’s getting late.”

He hesitates but nods.

“You’re right I suppose.”

“Always.”

Honestly, sleep comes easier than I would have thought. After all, I am leaving my best friend in the common room, ready to be found by the older students.

Mmh. Bed is comfy.

ooOOOoo

The next morning I am woken up by a voice not so soft, and someone grabs my wrist not so gently.

“Sherlock !! I don’t have your cig… Professor McGonagall? What if I had a heart issue, mmh?”

She is not impressed by my remark and she looks at me with pure anger.

“The Headmaster is waiting for you, Watson” she says sharply. 

“Hope he got some candies” I answer, putting a sweater on and trying to look presentable.

I would suppose it’s because of what happened with Neville. Maybe I will be thrown out. This idea makes me wanna cry. I try to put myself together, but I spot Hermione, hidden behind McGonagall. She has tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Harry’s at the infirmary.”

“What… Hermione idiot Granger…”

I don’t even put proper pants on, running out the common room and ignoring McGonagall’s screams in my back. I hear some compliments from Fred and George about my pyjamas. I pretend not to hear it either, running as fast as I can to the infirmary.

He is sleeping peacefully. He does look pretty tired and with some bruises here and there. My heavy breath and running steps seem to make enough noise to wake him up. His green eyes directly look at my right hand, which I am raising ready to slap him.

You idiot.

“…Stop !! Elizabeth, stop!”

“I trusted you, stupid! What is your plan? Mmh? See how many avadas you can take before you actually die? Don’t worry I am on it!”

“Elizabeth stop!”

I close my fist and my jaws but do let my hand drop to my sides. The Boy Who Lived got a stupid (CHANGER) smile on.

“You like me.”

“I will actually kill you. I will make you eat your hipsters glasses.”

“My what?”

Before I hug him, I squint my eyes.

“Was it Snape?”

“No” he grumbles.

“Told you so.”

“It was Quirrel.”

“You’re joking.”

“No I am not.”

“You must be joking.”

“He had You Know Who behind his head.”

“Explains the turban now that I think of it. Potter, you must say his name. You heard me call Voldy a billion times. I am still alive. He really got Voldemort, behind his head? Sherlock is going to lose his sh…”

“Watson” says the coldest voice I heard in my life.

“Not alive for very long, you see?” jokes Harry.

This man wants me to kill him.

“Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you” she articulates in a way that gives me the chills. Not the good kind of way. 

“I was just checking on the Boy Who Lived, our nerdy saviour, our stupid leader, our…” 

“Now.”

I obey. The time for pleasantry has ended. This woman scares me so much. Did you know her animagus is a cat? Did you know cats domine the world? Following what I am saying mmh?”

When we go into Dumbledore’s office. I am even more scared. Neville is sitting down, facing Dumbledore. As I approach slowly, I smile apologetically and kiss his cheek.

“I am so sorry.”

“You casted a spell on me! You left me there!"

I try to smile at him but he still seems mad. I sit down. 

“Miss Watson, I would like to know what happened yesterday night. Do not spare any details” says calmy Dumbledore.

I look at Gandalf, he appears but annoyed and bored.

“Professor, I am pretty sure you know what happened better than I do. But I will tell you my version. I went downstairs when I heard Hermione leaving her bed. I did try to stop them from doing the stupid thing they must have done. But not too much. I made a bet with them. I bet that Snape was not behind all of this, and if I was right, Hermione would come over.

I smile victoriously.

“I am happy to announce that I was right. Of course. I told them i would stop Neville, who was brave and stupid enough to still try to stop them. I did a petrificus totalus, which to be perfectly honest, was at least second-year level. Then I went to bed.”

Albus does not seem amused one bit by my story. He is inscrutable. After some seconds, he asks.

“Why didn’t you try to stop them?”

“I knew they were going to go anyways. Hermione is a better witche than I. Also, although I am not sure what exactly they did, I am a hundred per cent sure it was important.”

“What else?” asks Dumbledore, pretty sure there is more.

I put both of my elbows on his desk and smile.

“I was sure you would have stopped him, and I was right, wasn’t I?”

Neville looks super scared for me. Poor thing, if he knew how much of buddies Dumbledore and I are. But Dumbledore does seem annoyed.

“Miss Watson, I am not and will not be here to stop my students from dangerous situations.”

“It was not my role either, Professor. I do regret casting a spell on Neville, but fighting the whole trio was not worth it, sorry.”

Dumbledore talks with us for a bit, about friendship and other idiocies. When he let us go, it is time for lunch. On our way, we come across Ronald and Hermione waiting for Harry for the banquet, the last one before summer. Slytherin is going to win the House cup. 

“Someone like yoooouu! I wish nothing but the best for yoouuu!” I sing while Neville pretends it annoys him.

“Elizabeth?” calls Ronald.

I look up and see that he got some sort of scratch on his forehead. I frown.

“You too?”

I rush to him and take his face in my head.

“Hermione Granger, I understand you cannot protect everyone and Harry Potter least of thing (CHANGER!, but Ronald is your Watson and a good Sherlock always protects his John, you get what I am saying?” 

“What?”

She is supposedly first of her class. It’s a pity.

“How did you do that to yourself?” I ask Ronald.

“The giant wizard chess game. McGonagall’s. We had to win the game.”

“And you did?”

“Yeah.”

He answers as if it was nothing but I hear the pride in his voice and I notice the way he stands. I smile and ruffle his hair.

“You are my favourite Weasley.”

I let them there, Ronald and his blushing ears and Hermione and her confused look. I come into the Great Hall like a conqueror. Today I am actually wearing my Gryffindor tie, I don't know, it's the last day and I do feel some sort of House pride today. Maybe it's because of Potter and his stupid ideas. Who knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week, last chapter and officially the first fanfic I would have posted in English! I am still hoping for comments to improve, and would like to know if you do like this? :) I know we're not supposed to put too much attention to what others think but a girl (me) is human and is craving for other's approval mdr ("mdr" is lmao in French but I like "mdr" better")


	15. Chapter 14 or The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The school year finally ends, but at what cost? Slytherin's dignity if you ask me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir bonsoir!
> 
> Sorry for the delay, a girl has been studying her contract law and i am glad to be able to inform you that a contract is legally binding!! Also I have been crocheting as if my life depends on it!  
> I love this chapter so much, it always bothered me the way the first book ended so I am happy I could comment on some stuff!

I feel amazing, like the world belongs to me somehow. I don’t know what this castle has done to me but I do know I feel the happiest here. I also feel closer to my Mum than I do at Baker Street, I feel like a belking. Hogwart is actually a home. I hate how cheesy I am right now, but I can’t help it. I am at the last banquet of the year, trying to ignore the tiny feeling of sadness slowly growing in my chest. 

Perceval notices my stupide smile.

“Hogwart does that to one” he says.

“I love it” I answer right away, not being able to hide the profound feeling of happiness I have.

As the Golden Trio sits down at the table, Dumbledore steps forward for his speech and the craziest thing happens. Like, the craziest thing.

This Santa Claus discount gives 180 freaking points to Gryffindor. Fifty to Hermione because being smart is badass; fifty to Ronald because he played one of the most amazing chess game in Hogwart’s history (Dumbledore does not seem concerned by the fact that the kid almost died), sixty points to Harry for being brave or something (the kid almost died too, maybe a therapist would help) and ten points each for Neville and me because apparently fighting friends is harder than fighting enemies (I live with Sherlock Holmes, he will fight my Dad if necessary).

I turn around to see Snape’s and Malfoy’s face crumble on itself, maybe Malfoy is going to cry, and maybe I am not so mad about that. Of course, Gryffindor is having the best day, they’re screaming and clapping as Dumbledore gives the total.

And I just

“What the fuck?”

I might have yelled a little bit because the Gryffindors around me look at me. Dumbledore also raised an eyebrow. Maybe the man is ok with the fact that Harry may have killed a man, but he draws the line at fuck. Snape is looking at me as he had never really seen me before.

I see the older Gryffindors ready to kick my ass. I try to not look scared, but they are pretty big.

“They almost died! We may have disobeyed forty rules and we get points?? When Harry and Ron fought the freaking troll they got ten points each, how does this make sense?! It.. no!!”

I am going to get beat up. I know it. I step back.

“C’mon! This is not about which house is the bravest or anything! What kind of precedent is this making? Eleven years old should not be encouraged to do that!”

Snape is observing Dumbledore’s reaction with an arrogant smirk. Even worst than usual. The seventh years are going to grab me, but someone takes me by the wrist and takes me to the Slytherin table. It’s a seventh year Slytherin, she got black hair, dark brown eyes and she smiles at me.

“Pretty well said for a Gryffindor, maybe you should stay with us for a while?”

“Yeah, maybe, I suppose” I answer, looking at the Gryffindor’s table and then the Slytherin’s.

The former are mad, angry and betrayed, the latter are suspicious but curious. I will take that any day.

“What are you doing, Wilson?” asks another Slytherin.

“A truce for today, she deserves it, doesn’t she?” says my saviour.

“Yeah, I deserve it, don’t I?”

The other Slytherin squints his eyes in my direction but nods slightly, showing the seat in front of him. I sit down without a word and smiles shyly at the girl who is pouring me a glass of pumpkin juice. I look up the Professors table. Minerva might run me over with the Hogwart express. Snape looks like he could hug me but instead, he raises his glass in my direction, just an inch. I smile.

Some Slytherin do talk with me, pretty curious about the reasons for my disagreement. First of all, I don’t take this House thing pretty seriously. Second of all, I am not a fan of seeing Dumbledore congratulating Potter & co for doing what they did.

Later on, on the Hogwart express, I am alone. My Slytherin friends and I are not that close of friends. Neville is also mad at me and refused to be seen with me. I put my forehead on the window and sigh. I know miss my Dad a little. I am happy I will see him soon enough. My Dad, his old sweaters, and his teas are always a little bit too sweet.

Very excited to see Sherlock too, I got a ton of stuff to tell him as he pretends to not listen to me but asks some follow up questions.

I pet Voldy, smiling when I hear his little purr. I am upset that I don’t get to say goodbye properly to Neville and Hermione. They may be a little bit dramatic right now. As I sigh a second time, I hear a knock on the door and see Hermione and Neville. I raise up as they come in. They smile at me.

“Well… you weren’t completely wrong. Maybe Professor Dumbledore was not fair” starts Hermione.

“We won anyway, so… Your speech doesn’t change anything.”

“Also, you asked me to come over during the summer!” smiles Hermione.

I feel a profound feeling of relief as I hand her my address and my Dad’s numbers. For Neville, I warn him that I will send him my availability as soon as possible (and my availability will be: the whole summer).

We spend the rest of the trip together and step down the train together. I spot immediately my Dad and Sherlock, by themselves in a corner, looking around and looking for me. I wave at Neville and Hermione, promising them to contact them as soon as possible and rush towards Sherlock and my Dad.

“Dad!”

My old man looks somewhat relieved and pretty happy to see me. He takes me in his arms and tightens his grip as much as possible.

“I missed you”, he whispers in my ear.

“Me too”, I admit even lower.

When I step back, Sherlock looks down at me and make a little forced smile.

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

“I don’t like it here.”

I hug him. The top of my head reaches the middle of his chest.

“I missed you, Sherly.”

“Don’t call me Sherly.”

Once we all hugged each other (mostly my Dad and I), I look around and see Ronald in the company of a lot of others read headed people. He waves at me with a huge smile.

“So you’re not mad?”

“Because we won?” he asks. “You were the one mad!”

I laugh.

I also see Harry with a man who looks annoyed and super mad and a woman looking around her, seeming scared and afraid of everyone and everything.

Sherlock follows my eyes.

“Harry Potter?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Who is the man with him?”

“His uncle I believe.”

“He hates magic, obviously.”

“Obviously,” says my Dad.

I frown my eyebrows.

“I am coming right back.”

I go to Harry and his family, writing down my Dad’s number on a piece of paper.

“Potter!”

He turns around and has the worst forced smile I have ever seen. And I know Sherlock Holmes. I shake his uncle’s hand.

“Very nice to meet you, Sir. I am Elizabeth Watson, Harry’s friend.”

“Watson?” repeats the woman.

“Yeah, you may know my Dad and his friend, they’re right there” I smile, showing Sherlock and John who are looking at us.

Harry’s aunt and uncle look even more scared than before, I didn’t know it was possible.

“It’s the Detective on the TV”, she whispers.

“Exactly! You would be amazed at the things he knows just looking at the people. The secrets people hide in the intimacy of their own home!”

It’s like they are not even breathing anymore, just looking at me and then Sherlock and Dad.

“So Harry, if you need anything, even just seeing a new face from time to time, you know who to call”, I say, handing him the phone number. “And if you were to lose my number, don’t worry, I will send it to you on a weekly basis.”

I lose my smile and look at his uncle and aunt.

“And if Harry were to forget to write me back, I will come see him in persons. Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade and I.”

I take Harry in my arms before he can run away from me.

“Be safe.”

“I will do my best,” he says softly.

When I return to my Dad and Sherlock, they look concerned.

“What happened?”

“Took care of it, no need for questions.”

“I just saw this boy you have a crush on” says Sherlock. “He is ridiculous.”

“I change my mind. I didn’t miss you.”

I spend the whole trip back to Baker Street talking and talking and talking about my year. Sherlock pretends to be bored but he is not saying anything. Dad looks at me as if he wanted to remember each and every single second. When I slow down a little to catch my breath, he rubs my hair.

“I am so proud of you.”

“So am I!”

“John, why did you make me come?” asks Sherlock.

“I didn’t. I went and you came along.”

We arrive at the apartment, I run to my bedroom and jump on my bed for a few seconds then run back to the living room while my Dad is putting down my trunk.

“Calm down!” laughs my Dad.

“I just feel… so happy! Also, I invited Hermione and Neville over.”

“Nice,” says my Dad.

“What?” asks Sherlock.

I don’t answer him. I go downstairs to see Mrs Hudson and share a cup of tea with her. She almost broke a couple of my ribs, but it’s fair game. She missed me. My Dad joins us and asks about the people he saw at the station.

“The red headed boy, who was that?”

“Ronald Weasley! He is great! So smart, but not in a school-ish kind of way. He is naturally smart and pretty funny.”

“What about Neville?”

“He is my best friend!” 

I remember something very important now.

“Oh Dad! You were supposed to tell me about tampons!”

Mrs Hudson uses an excuse to leave the room and my Dad looks at his empty cup of tea, trying to figure out how to start his sentence.

I am just messing with him. Angelina Johnson explained everything to me already and she did it so well.

“Mmh… yeah, right… well, when you…”

“When I have my periods? The blood running down my vagina?”

He gives me a death stare. For a doctor, he seems very unaware of the miracles of life.

“Yeah… when, when you have the tampon you...”

“You put it inside your vagina, making sure the string is out” finishes Sherlock.

I burst into laughter.

“Dad! Someone already explained to me!”

“Wh.. What?! Sherlock, how do you know that anyway?!”

Sherlock has a little smile and winks at me. I laugh even more. We keep on talking and talking and I go to bed at midnight, with the promise of seeing Lestrade tomorrow.

I go to bed feeling as excited as ever, the head filled with the dusty hallways, the whispers of the portraits, Filch’s eternal suspicious look, McGonagall’s severe look but sometimes gentle smile. I miss Flitwick’s always good mood and Sprout's daily compliments. I look Sinistra's passion in her voices when she talks about the stars. I am going to miss Hagrid’s smile and Snape’s sarcasm.

I am going to miss my friends so bad.

Ronald and his flushing ears. One can always tell Ronald's mood, he is just so obvious. Harry and his sweetness, that kid does not deserve to be living where he lives. But the kid is not the smartest, thank Merlin for Hermione. Hermione is the best. She always tries her best, she always wants to be perfect, and sometimes she is rough around the edge, but only because she is so afraid to not be the best. I will miss the Weasley twins and the fact that they can always make me laugh, no matter the mood I am in that day. 

I am going to miss Neville so bad. Neville who just wants to make his grandmother proud, but the only class he shines in is not the one she is a fan of. That kid is doing wonders in herbology and it's amazing to witness what he does. He always knows what to tell me or when not to speak. I love him. 

Dumbledore what have you done to me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so ?   
> What do we do? Do I wait for 2021 or as a early Christmas gift I post the next part next week?   
> Writing in English has been amazing for me, first to expand and improve my vocabulary but second (and most importantly) for my confidence. Although at this point, my French is worst than my English, publishing something in English was and is very intimidating. Each time I post I am anxious that I left a stupid and idiot mistake in the chapter, I am stressed that you won't like or something! So please, leave a kudo or a comment just to share what you think about it ;)


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